


Beloved Barbarian  by T. Roubles

by Dusty Tyree (DustyP), DustyP, Ishmael (DustyP), Starface (DustyP)



Category: AU A Team TV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 51,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26111971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyP/pseuds/Dusty%20Tyree, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyP/pseuds/DustyP, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyP/pseuds/Ishmael, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustyP/pseuds/Starface
Summary: Hadrian is commander of an army encamped in a the desert, waiting for orders to move on. He is a seasoned soldier, liked and respected by his men.Temos is a young scout and pathfinder, belonging to a different tribe.   Young and handsome, he has many skills.  He knows the desert and leads a small group of young men in scouting pathways for the army through the vast desert.His best friend is Marcus.  They've known and worked with each other for about five years.While they wait, the commander and scout become friends, leading them into a relationship neither had envisaged.





	Beloved Barbarian  by T. Roubles

**Author's Note:**

> This story took me a long time. My friends and I spent many happy hours, talking and discussing details over late night phone calls. We were always adding more things for the characters to do. Thats why I ended up doing a sequel. I also have been writing chapter three for many years, but I doubt now whether it will ever get finished
> 
> Although this can be classed as an A Team AU. The characters, although they bear a striking resemblence to the four main characters in the TV series, live in a very different world and live very different lives.

BELOVED BARBARIAN  
by

T. Roubles

This is an AU tale, with original characters, which are copyright to the author.

CHAPTER ONE:  
The sun had passed its zenith and the row of tents were beginning to stir with life as the heat abated slightly in the late afternoon.

Commander Hadrian yawned slightly as he rose from his couch, stretching lazily before walking towards the curtain which divided his sleeping quarters from the rest of the tent. He'd managed to sleep for a short time and was feeling refreshed now that it was a few degrees cooler.

The curtain was pulled aside and his personal servant Bar-cus appeared, shepherding two slaves carrying a copper basin of water and towels. Hadrian smiled as the two youths scurried past, they still looked half asleep - and although Bar-cus scowled at them impartially, the Commander knew neither boy was afraid of the huge, dark-skinned man, although they were wise enough never to take liberties with his temper.

Hadrian wandered across to the outer entrance and glanced outside at the neat, orderly rows of tents and awnings which housed his small army. It always gave him an inward glow of satisfaction to see that no matter how long they stayed in one place, the camp always looked ready to move out, everything in its place, sentries standing at their posts. He had some excellent soldiers in this small force of three hundred men; most of his officers were young and high spirited, but discipline and respect for their commander kept them within bounds, most of the time; the older ones had been through many a battle with Hadrian and some were tried and trusted friends.

It had been a long and arduous campaign, with the army pushing ever further north to find new trade routes for the growing Empire of Monarch the III, the ruler of the largest land mass, Nova-Saran. The Emperor, with his Empress Melissa, had a well trained army commanded by some of the best military brains on the known continents, one of the most respected was Hadrian.

Some of the tribes they had encountered on their travels had been very warlike and it had taken some hard fighting to get them to make peace with the invading army. Hadrian and the other commanders had wanted allies, not rebels on their flanks, and on several occasions had to stay in the vicinity some months, to make sure the tribes were settled enough to leave in their rear. The four regiments making up this expeditionary force, took it in turn to stay behind, whilst the others moved on, and it was the turn of Hadrian's men to keep the peace for the next few months.

Hadrian moved back into his private inner quarters and was soon stripped and making good use of the warm water. He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, around six feet in height. His face was strong with above average good looking features, and due to the years spent under a hot desert sun, his fair skin was brown; he had a firm jaw and wide, sensitive mouth that could tighten into a thin line when angered, but then just as easily part in a smile which charmed men and women alike. His teeth were white and his eyes like clear sapphires, ringed around with a darker circle of blue. He was thirty-four years old and his short fair hair bleached by the sun, was showing signs of silver at his temples, giving him a distinguished look. Finishing his toilette, Hadrian pulled on a fresh under tunic and waited patiently whilst Bar-cus fitted on his sword belt, making sure it sat comfortably around his commander's lean waist.

Brushing his hair took only a few moments and then he was ready. He had no appointments for the next hour so decided to take a walk around the camp. He liked to keep in contact with the ordinary soldiers in his command and liked the men to see him - to know he was there in command and not just a figurehead at the head of an army. Events in this sector had been quiet for two moons now, and the men were relaxed - but never off guard. The desert tribes were unpredictable and lost no opportunity of testing the strength of the occupying army, of which Hadrian's small, but skilled section was an important part.

Hadrian, with Bar-cus, a silent but substantial shadow a few paces behind, strolled casually around the camp, exchanging greetings with a few of his officers and stopping now and then to watch the men as they prepared their evening meal, some playing games, throwing dice; some wrestling or practicing with sword and lance. It was a happy camp, Hadrian realised thankfully, the heat and isolation often tended to make men irritable and quarrelsome, and he was grateful for each quiet, trouble-free day.

A shadow crossed his good-looking features as he saw some of the younger men sitting in pairs, contentment in every face. It was quite the normal thing in their society for men to pair off, socially and sexually, especially while they were far away from home. He too, had had a companion and lover, but Remo had been killed in battle five moons ago, and Hadrian had not taken another companion since that dreadful day.

Oh, he'd had plenty of veiled invitations and knew he would only have to lift a finger and he could have his pick of half, if not the whole, army. He wasn't interested, however, not yet. There had been only one Remo, their families had been close friends and they'd been born within a year of each other, Remo being the elder. They'd grown up together, soldiered together, and become lovers whilst still in their late teens. Hadrian missed Remo almost every minute of every day, and as time passed, he'd become resigned to being alone.

There was only one person in this whole camp to whom he'd given a second look - and that was a young man from one of the barbaric hill tribes who'd joined his small force six months ago as a pathfinder. The youth's name was Temos and he was one of the most strikingly beautiful young men Hadrian had ever seen.

As though conjured up by his thoughts, Hadrian saw Temos and his heart beat a little faster as he watched the youth.

Temos was standing in the midst of a cheerful crowd, who were urging on two wrestlers as they grappled with each other. His tawny gold hair hung to his waist and was bound with a leather thong. Instead of his usual scouting garb of leather kilt and crossed sword belts, Temos wore a white linen tunic, tied loosely round his slim waist with a twisted blue cord, which showed off his long, tanned legs and trim figure to full advantage. He held a waxed tablet and quill and was obviously taking wagers on the outcome of the wrestling match.

Hadrian couldn't prevent a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. In the short time Temos had been with them, he'd already gained a reputation of being a skilled gambler and could apparently acquire items of luxury from out of thin air. There had never been any hint of theft about these items, so Hadrian wisely, had left well alone. He knew the hill tribes were fiercely protective of their honour and to insult one of their respected scouts, young though he was, wouldn't do his command any good at all.

Becoming aware that he was staring, Hadrian moved slowly onward, nodding to the cheerful greetings from some of the men. He saw the tawny gold head move and caught a flash of the incredible green-blue eyes of the young pathfinder, before they were veiled by the curtain of dark lashes, as Temos looked down at his tablet.

Upon entering his quarters again, Hadrian unbuckled his sword and let Bar-cus lay it on the hardwood chest containing his clothes.

"Will you be attending the celebration tonight, Commander?" The dark-skinned man asked in his deep rough voice.

"Celebration?" Hadrian frowned. "Oh yes, the wrestling and running contests." He had almost forgotten, pushed to the back of his mind by the sight of Temos.

"And the lance, archery and sword contests," added Bar-cus.

Hadrian smiled. "Did the best team win?" he asked trying not to smile. Bar-cus always pretended that as a warrior, and chief in his own right, it was beneath him to notice children playing games, but he always knew who had won which event, and the score.

The black brows met in a scowl - then the fierce lips parted in a slight smile.

"Yes, commander. The Blue Team had by far the most skilled members. They won all contests. Pathfinder Temos won the archery and running by a large margin and came a close second with the sword - he is young, but has the makings of a fine warrior."

Hadrian raised a quizzical eyebrow, from Bar-cus this was high praise indeed, then wondered at the thrill of pride which ran through his body. He shook himself - he would have to stop these daydreams.

During the quiet periods, when there were no battles to be fought and no scouting trips, he had organized athletic and martial contests to keep the men honed to the fine, sharp edge he needed out here so far from any help from home. He had suggested to his four senior officers that they each form a team and so it had been done and had proved very popular.

The rivalry between the teams was keen and although there had to be a set of rules, no holds were barred, short of a deliberate foul.

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Hadrian said, "we'll need his scouts when we eventually have to move from this sun-blasted spot."

Bar-cus nodded soberly. "What time shall I attend the commander?" he asked formally.

Hadrian smiled. "Yes, of course, I'll attend the celebration, I wouldn't miss it. Attend me half an hour after sunset." He sighed, "I'd better see the sub-commanders now."

Bar-cus inclined his head slightly and withdrew, leaving Hadrian to settle himself at the small table, ready to receive his officers with their second report of the day.

With little but the day-to-day running of the camp to discuss, the meeting didn't take long and Hadrian professed himself satisfied with his officers' reports.

CHAPTER TWO

A little more than an hour after sunset, Hadrian was giving out prizes to the winners of the various contests, accompanied by loud cheers and stamping of sandaled feet on sandy ground. He had hardly been aware of the words he'd spoken to young Temos, who had accepted the carved arrow and leather sandals with a graceful bow and smile of pure sunshine, the flash of even white teeth in his pink-flushed features, filling Hadrian with a pleasant warmth and a sudden ache in his heart.

After the prize giving, the wine had flowed freely and the men designated as cooks for the night, had been kept busy replenishing the platters of roasted meats and flagons of wine, until all had been consumed and they could rest and join in the celebrations.

Hadrian had eaten a little and drank half a goblet of wine to keep his men company and now lazed back against his cushions watching the merry scene with a smile. The crowd were scattered widely now that the prizes had been given out, and there was more space under the awnings for the officers.

Hadrian's eyes couldn't help straying to a particular corner where a small party of the victorious Blue Team were gathered, some lying on cushions and rugs, others standing with their arms joined, singing a bawdy marching song.

Temos was sitting between two men Hadrian recognized as Marcus, the winner of the lance-throwing contest and Decius, winner of the sword-fighting contest.

Marcus had arrived with Temos, he didn't belong to the same tribe but was reputed to be Temos' strong right-hand aide and best friend. Only two or three years separated them in age, Marcus the elder and as dark as Temos was fair.

Decius was one of Hadrian's senior officers, about the same age as himself, roughly the same height and build, with light brown hair and gray eyes. He was a dour man, not given to easy laughter or friendship, but Hadrian couldn't fault him for his loyalty or soldiering abilities.

Even as he watched, Decius pulled Temos towards him and attempted to plant a lopsided kiss on the smiling mouth. Hadrian felt a surge of surprise and rage; how dare he? Then was distracted from his confusion as Marcus pushed the older man away and put a long arm around Temos' shoulders, drawing him closer to kiss his cheek. Decius retaliated by pushing Marcus and Temos was shaken from one side to the other. Even from his seat, Hadrian saw the flash of anger which darkened the brilliant green gaze as Temos shrugged off first one hand then the other, and pushed the two men away from him and each other, speaking a few sharp words to both.

Marcus subsided slowly, a frown marring the smooth skin of his forehead but Decius, who was more than a little drunk, grabbed his tunic and raised a closed fist. Temos was caught up in the struggle between the two men and in a matter of moments the fighting had spread to the others in the group.

Hadrian was on his feet, signaling to Bar-cus, who strode over to the swaying, fighting men and with a few well-chosen blows, stopped the fight before it could spread any further.

Decius straightened up, his face white as he realised his commander had witnessed his loss of control, while Marcus glared at him, his brown eyes smouldering with pent-up anger.

"Decius, Temos, report to me in one hour," said Hadrian simply, then left to return to his own quarters. With this sort of minor infringements he usually dealt with the culprits straight away, rather then let it drag on into the next day.

CHAPTER THREE

Exactly one hour later, Temos and Decius reported to the Command Tent. Decius was still a trifle drunk, but well aware of what could happen. A commander held the balance of life and death in his hands, and some commanders had been known to abuse this privilege when angered; but although Hadrian could be stern, even ruthless when necessary, he'd always been fair in his dealings with officers and men alike.

The two men stood rigidly at attention before the commander and he looked them over slowly. He had already decided to be lenient; after all he couldn't punish a good soldier like Decius very much for a drunken fight, and the older officer had provided the necessary excuse for him to summon Temos to him. He couldn't deal harshly with Temos either, even if he'd wanted too. Temos was a volunteer with his force, and although required to accept his discipline, had indeed sworn to do so, he could just walk out and leave any time, without hindrance, as Hadrian didn't have either the time or men to spare to chase after a few men who knew this country much better than he did. Nothing of his thoughts, however, showed on his smooth-shaven, impassive features.

He let them stand for a few more moments as he seated himself behind the table, then he raised cool blue eyes and spoke to his senior officer.

"Sub-commander Decius, I won't ask the reason for that disgraceful display of temper, but I expect more restraint and self control from one of my senior officers, especially in front of the men." He paused studying Decius' impassive face. "I intend to let this occasion pass with a warning, as I can understand the celebration was something special. I must, however, confine you to your quarters for two days." He paused again, catching the flash of surprise and gratitude in the other man's light gray eyes. "You will, of course, be ready to move with your unit when the order comes to march. You are dismissed."

Decius saluted smartly and left the tent, escorted by Bar-cus.

Hadrian then turned his attention to the young man who was still standing smartly at attention. Having the leisure now to study him, Hadrian realised his first impression had been correct; he'd never seen such a beautiful man in his whole life.

The young barbarian's nose was straight, his features even, almost straight eyebrows above wide-apart eyes, his mouth was just about perfect in the Omerian commander's eyes, with lips firmly but sensuously sculptured. His skin was smooth and unblemished and the sun had tanned it to golden bronze. Apart from his undoubted good looks, however, there was also strength in that fine featured face, the jaw firm, his wide brow indicative of the intelligence which shone in those incredible eyes.

What colour were they? mused Hadrian, blue, green, a mixture of both: whatever name a man could put to them, they were bewitching, irresistible, and his hair! Hadrian sighed inwardly, his fingers itching to touch that golden mane which had hung in heavy waves around the handsome head at the celebrations and was now tied at the nape of his long neck with a leather thong. From the little he knew of the youth's tribal customs, it was a token that the boy had become a man: to cut it would not only be a crime, thought Hadrian, but would also tell the world that the man had changed his customs and his way of life, and was no longer of "The People".

Hadrian poured himself a measure of the local wine and sipped it slowly, his eyes still watching the young man who had not given any indication that he knew he was being observed, except for the faintest pink tinge in his sun-kissed cheeks, he might have been carved from golden stone and ivory.

The older man noticed that the young pathfinder had changed from the blue linen tunic he'd worn at the celebration meal, back into his leather over-kilt and heavy sandals, the fastening of the footwear wound round each well-shaped calf almost to his knees. The short kilt which reached halfway down his long thighs, was made of the softest leather Hadrian had ever seen and was so supple it hung from the narrow waist like the finest linen.

Over each shoulder and crossed over the young man's bare chest, were a pair of leather belts, supporting a long sword on his left hip, and a dagger on his right. All in all, the young warrior standing before him was the most perfect specimen of young manhood that Hadrian had ever seen, every muscle in proportion to his height and weight.

Hadrian cleared his throat, aware of the pounding of his blood and his voice sounded husky to his own ears as he spoke: "You may stand easy, Pathfinder Temos."

The bewitching eyes met his, and Hadrian thought he detected a trace of wariness in their brilliant depths.

Hadrian had met this initial response from so many of the men with whom he'd come in contact, the wariness and sometimes fear. He could not, however, detect any sign of fear in the man standing so still and straight before him: interest - yes. Curiosity - yes. Respect? Yes, definitely respect and something more, admiration? Yes, the merest trace of admiration showed in that brilliant dark blue gaze. Intriguingly, those eyes had changed colour again, the older man noticed, as they were raised slightly to meet his own, the younger man being two inches shorter in height than himself.

Temos relaxed a fraction, his hands going behind his back, feet slightly parted. Hadrian hid a sudden smile, there was still defiance in that upraised chin, but he chose to ignore it. Now he had Temos here, he wasn't sure how to proceed, so he fell back on military discipline.

"You heard what I said to Sub-commander Decius."

It was a statement rather than a question, but Temos answered with a wary, "Yes sir." The slightest trace of accent in his even tone intriguing Hadrian even more.

"Well, the same applies to junior officers under my command, do I make myself understood?"

"Yes, sir," was the reply, totally without rancor.

There was not the slightest attempt to shift the blame to either of his older companions, even though they both knew Decius had started the argument and fight in the first place.

Hadrian took another sip of wine, stretching out his legs, noticing the barest flicker of movement in Temos' eyes. By the whiskers of the old gods, thought Hadrian, this boy is always on guard even while at ease.

"Temos, I realise that you and your men are volunteers, but I have to keep the peace between the different tribes in this army." Hadrian paused, then added, "so I will confine you to your quarters for, oh, say one day, I think that's fair."

The commander noticed the flash of relief in the bright eyes before they were veiled by the long, dark lashes. For someone so fair, his eyebrows and lashes were unusually dark, thought Hadrian. Then pulled himself together. He couldn't sit here staring at the young man, no matter how easy on the eye he was to look at.

Temos had started to turn before he realised he hadn't been dismissed and froze, staring at the commander. The older man had been surprisingly fair and understanding and Temos didn't want to do anything to change that happy situation. He was relieved at the lenient punishment, for although he understood, and sympathized, with the commander's dilemma and the need to show that everyone was treated within the same rules, he couldn't stand being locked away from the sun and fresh air for very long.

Hadrian stared back, not wanting to dismiss the youth, but he couldn't think of a reason for keeping him here.

He was rescued in the person of Bar-cus, who entered the tent and bowed before saying: "A messenger from Commander Lynchus, sir."

Hadrian nodded "Let him enter." Turning to Temos he added, "just wait over there," and he waved to the side of the tent where a small table and chair was placed.

Temos saluted and moved to the side of the tent, halting beside the table. He noticed that a board game had been set up and recognized it with a pang of nostalgia and pain.

Then his attention was caught by the arrival of a tired and very dusty messenger who saluted briskly and handed the Commander a rolled-up scroll.

The messenger couldn't hide his surprise and gratitude as Hadrian waved to his servant, who poured the man a cup of wine. "Thank you, sir."

Hadrian nodded abstractedly and opened the scroll, turning away from the others. He read it without a word but Temos wasn't the only one who noticed the slight tightening of the mobile lips. "There is no hurry for a reply," he said to the messenger. "When you have rested, you can carry my acknowledgment to your Commander in the morning."

The tired man bowed, radiating delight that he would be able to rest before starting back, such consideration was very rare in his unit and he was smiling as Bar-cus escorted him outside.

With a muttered curse, Hadrian angrily threw down the scroll, then became aware of the slight figure stiffening to attention again, sensing his anger and no doubt wondering if he would bear the brunt of his commander's displeasure.

The commander shook his head sadly. "We are ordered to remain here and hold the position until further notice," adding bitterly, "no doubt that will give Commander..." he broke off, realising he was in danger of being indiscreet. "Never mind, where was I? Oh yes." He broke off again, at a loss, then remembering he'd seen Temos looking at the game set up on the table asked: "Do you play?"

Temos nodded in surprise. "Yes sir. My father taught me before... before..." his voice tailed away, his eyes darkening with an old pain.

"Before?" queried his commander gently.

Temos straightened and answered steadily "Before he was killed."

Seeing the sympathy and encouragement in the other man's blue eyes, he added harshly. "We lived near the border. One night a band of brigands swept down across our farm. They killed the entire household. My parents, my two sisters, the youngest was only ten summers," he stopped abruptly, then managed to go on. "All the servants too, they were extremely loyal to my father. I only escaped because my tutor and I were in the summer house and he wouldn't let me out." There was a hint of remembered anguish in those words as the youth recalled the struggle of a young boy against a desperate man's attempt to save him.

"There was a cellar beneath the building, used as a storage place and where we used to play. He hid us there until they'd gone." The choked voice stopped and the commander felt a wave of sympathy wash over him, although it was a common enough occurrence in the wild border regions. "How old were you?" he asked gently.

"Twelve, my older sister was sixteen, the younger one ten." He shuddered and raised green eyes, tormented with dark shadows of the past. "I can still hear them screaming sometimes."

The Commander poured out a cup of wine and moved across to the boy, putting a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Would you care to have a game with me?" he asked, handing over the wine and changing the subject.

Temos gulped, still trembling with remembered horror. Surprised at the gentle tone, he nodded his assent, before taking the cup of wine. As he sipped at the slightly warm liquid he realised that it was a long time since he'd told anyone about that horrific night. It must be twelve summers ago now, since he'd lost everyone he loved, or almost everyone, he thought affectionately, remembering his tutor. He became aware that the older man was speaking again.

"Take off your weapon belts," the commander was saying, "may as well be comfortable. We're quite secure in here with Bar-cus at the door."

He sat down at the table, smiling in anticipation. "I haven't been able to have a decent game since Remo was slain." He paused, realising that it was the first time he'd been able to mention his lost friend and lover to anyone except Bar-cus.

Temos smiled slightly as he complied with the order, placing the crossed leather belts on the floor beside his feet, in easy reach of his hand; he had learned never to be too far away from a defensive weapon.

For the next two hours, they played in friendly companionship. Skillfully, Hadrian encouraged the younger man to talk, wanting to know more about this fascinating youngster. He was obviously well-bred, educated and highly intelligent. That he was a courageous and cunning fighter, the Commander already knew, having seen the slender figure in the forefront of battle. On another occasion the young pathfinder had saved Hadrian when the commander had been set afoot in the midst of a horde of fighting men when his horse had been killed under him.

Another thing in his favour, Hadrian noticed with pleasure, was that he drank sparingly of the wine. He obviously didn't drink to excess like a lot of the younger men wanting to prove their masculinity. As the game progressed, Hadrian became more convinced than ever that the young man before him was someone he could respect. Temos obviously didn't care too much what anyone thought of him, he was quietly confident in his own skills; his dealings with colleagues were friendly enough, in fact he was the type of young man that Hadrian could maybe take into his confidence, talk over battle strategies, voice his misgivings without fear Temos would betray him.

Hadrian blinked suddenly, putting a sudden rein on his thoughts. All this from one meeting, and a friendly game of Chek. Still, he thought musingly as he pushed another counter into position, that might not be a bad idea. Temos knew the area, having scouted it before, he could maybe throw a fresh light on this route they were meant to follow. He would think more on the subject, later.

Temos relaxed a little more as the game continued, leaning forward over the table to study the board. As he did so, Hadrian noticed with a curious pang of tenderness, that the pathfinder's hair was escaping from the thong binding it, the leather slipping on the silky mane.

Soon, Temos was tossing his head irritably, pushing the loosening hair back with an impatient hand, the sight being very stimulating to Hadrian as he’d only seen that heavy mass tightly braided except for tonight at the celebration.

Clearing his throat, Hadrian decided he’d better think of something to take his mind off his companion's youthful beauty and as casually as he could, asked about Marcus and Decius.

Temos looked up, but there wasn’t a hint of anything except sincere interest on the older man’s clean-shaven face.

“Marcus and I have been friends for years,” he said simply. “We met at a tribal gathering about five years ago, and have fought side-by-side ever since.” He paused then added. “Decius I’ve known only since I’ve been here.”

“Do they usually fight over you?” Hadrian asked casually.

Temos looked up, suddenly wary, but as he met the older man’s blue eyes sparkling with good humour, he grinned infectiously.

“Not in public - well not very often,” he said.

Hadrian couldn’t help but smile back. “So, you don’t belong to Marcus, or Decius?”

The sea-coloured eyes flashed dangerously. “I don’t belong to anyone, or ever will,” the young pathfinder replied, his voice was soft but held an unmistakable warning, which the older man acknowledged with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“When I’m ready, I’ll chose my own bed-mate,” Temos went on, more to himself than to his listener. Then he flushed furiously realising, too late, he’d told the commander more than he’d intended, indicating that he hadn’t yet, been bedded by any man.

The same couldn’t be said of the female population he’d met in his travels. He had been pursued by many women, young and old, and had succumbed to some, but not all. Temos, although young and virile had his own standards of behaviour. Although he had no way of knowing it, Temos had set his commander’s heart singing with the heady thought: he doesn't belong to anyone - not yet, but you will, my fiery little barbarian, you will!

Although Hadrian hadn’t made any definite plans for this evening, he had wanted to take the younger man to his bed, but now realised that move would defeat his final purpose.

With the orders he’d just received to wait, he would have more time to gain acceptance for his proposal from this unpredictable, exciting young man.

For the rest of the evening, he kept to less intimate conversation, seeing the tension ease from his companion’s broad shoulders.

After winning the final game, which Hadrian inwardly thought must be a good omen for him, he stood up. “I think that’s enough for this evening, Temos.” He stretched his arms tiredly. “Thank you for a very interesting game.”

Temos stood up hastily, as Hadrian added with a smile. “Now you’d better go and begin your, er, punishment.”

His smile reassured the younger man that although discipline would have to be seen to be done, he didn’t personally consider it a serious offence.

As Temos bent to retrieve his weapon belts from the floor, his hair finally broke loose and flowed over his shoulders like sun-dappled water, and the commander watched fascinated as the locks shimmered in the lamplight.

Then an impatient hand pushed the wayward mane away from flushed cheeks and Temos saluted the commander.

“Goodnight sir.”

“Goodnight Pathfinder Temos.”

Temos left the tent, head swirling with new thoughts. It had been a long time since he’d enjoyed one man’s company as much as he had tonight.

CHAPTER FOUR

Hadrian poured himself another cup of wine as he watched the tall figure stride away and sat down to ponder what he’d learned about Temos, both tonight from the youth himself, and what he’d heard from other sources.

Remo, his much-missed lover, had told him the gossip about the newly arrived pathfinder and also what facts he himself had managed to garner. There wasn’t much that got past the eagle-eyes and ears of Remo, who had been responsible for the smooth-running of Hadrian's elite group of soldiers, and as luck would have it, he already knew some of Temos’ background from his cousin, Arcos, who was a magistrate in Omeria, where his family and Hadrian's resided.

Apparently, the fifteen-year old Temos had been left in the household of a prominent City Merchant, when his tutor had died suddenly of a heart complaint.

The merchant, whose name was Lucas, had fostered the boy mainly as a favour to the tutor who’d become a good friend and teacher of his own children, but mainly because his wife and he liked the handsome youth and didn’t want to see him left alone and friendless in what was to Temos, a foreign city.

All had gone well, with Temos fitting in well with the merchant’s family, until there had been a scandal involving the eldest daughter of the household.

Roslin, a beautiful, but spoiled young woman of eighteen summers, had accused the boy of attempting to molest her, although from what information Remo’s cousin had gathered from servants and others around at the time, the girl had been furious when Temos wouldn’t take her, not very subtle advances, seriously and so in a spiteful rage, had made the accusation.

Temos had made no attempt to deny or defend himself from the accusation, and so had been banished to a wealthy temple to serve as a novice priest.

“Honourable little devil,” Remo had commented, and the Commander agreed.

Even before Remo had told him the details, Hadrian could’ve guessed that a teenager like Temos was far too high-spirited and intelligent to take being buried alive in such a creaking edifice as the Temple of Charitable Deeds, where there was less love and charity than could be found in the local market place.

The Head of this institution was a priest named Salleed, who was very strict on discipline and preached love and charity to the rich patrons who came calling. His manner, however, changed abruptly when they had left the temple. He ruled over his fellow priests and novices with a firm stick, and an acid tongue, which was bad enough, but his personal tastes ran to violence and his lecherous behaviour brought fear to every newcomer.

Salleed had taken a liking to the handsome youth and had made Temos’ young life miserable by his constant sexual advances and the petty punishments which greeted the boy’s high-spirited, but harmless escapades. The priest was a tall man and had been powerful, but his love of the good life and sexual excesses had given him a paunch and his muscles ran more to fat than strength.

He was still a powerful enemy for a grown man, and more so for a youth not yet sixteen.

Arcos had gathered evidence from various witnesses and by all accounts, Temos had tried to fit in with this new stage of his life, had studied and become an expert with the potions and salves which served as medicine for the local community. Yet his heart was still in the outdoors, and at every opportunity, Temos climbed the high stone wall surrounding the Temple and could be found in the open fields, practicing with sword and the bow he’d made himself. He kept these items hidden in a niche in the stone wall which surrounded his prison-like home.

Salleed apparently, had tried by various methods to get closer both physically and emotionally with the fair-haired youngster. He was forever touching Temos’ arm or shoulder, leaning closer to him, seeming unaware of the boy’s distaste.

He also tried to draw Temos away from the safety of the other young acolytes of the temple, and on one occasion managed to trap the youth in his private room. Telling Temos he must be punished for his recent misdemeanor of being outside the temple walls after sunset, Salleed, with the enthusiastic help of two lesser, but no less lecherous priests, had attacked him.

Temos had been bewildered, he’d been outside many times and although he’d been punished by extra duties and lessons, had never considered that he might be beaten for this particular offence.

When he had been grabbed by the High Priest’s two helpers, his arms twisted behind his back and his only garment torn completely away from his body, the method of punishment had become only too obvious.

Temos had started to struggle, almost going berserk as he’d fought to break free from the two holding his arms.

Somehow, he’d freed himself from their grip and had gone straight for the High Priest. Salleed had fought back and with a man’s strength should’ve been able to beat the smaller youth, but his excesses had left him with neither physical nor moral courage, and Temos had been unstoppable that day, beating the larger man so severely he’d left him unconscious and bleeding on the floor.

After that, so Arcos had been informed, he’d thrashed the two other priests with almost contemptuous ease, and snatching up his brown robe, had left them groaning on the floor with their master.

With only his small bundle of personal belongings, Temos had disappeared into the night and had been missing for several days, finally being found by one of Lucas' servants.

Nothing official had been done to apprehend Temos, for after hearing the youth’s side of the story, his guardian, Lucas had brought pressure to bear and the charge of assault had been dropped before really being issued.

Salleed’s sexual deviations had become widely known after this incident, and there was a sudden decline in the number of applicants for places in the temple, and a marked drop in the amount of revenue from rich patrons.

Lucas and his wife had wanted Temos to come back and live with them, as Roslin had broken down and belatedly told her mother there was no truth in her former accusations. This had been a great relief for the adults as Temos had been well-liked by both family members and their servants.

Temos however, had had a taste of freedom, and didn’t want to stay in one place, and although Lucas, as his legal guardian, could have insisted as Temos was still a minor, he had the good sense to let him go realising that this way the family wouldn’t lose him completely. His only condition being that Temos would be accompanied by an older companion, an old friend of his who was a silk merchant and great traveler.

Temos had reluctantly agreed and together, they had set off on their travels, which had taken them to the far corners of the known world.

After three years of traveling, gaining experience in the world of commerce and trade, among many others, Temos had parted from his friend and now eighteen years of age had returned to the city to visit his guardian and foster family, then he’d gone back to his own home, and although it was now a ruin, had met with young members of a nearby hill tribe and found himself in the ranks of the pathfinding fraternity, where he’d met Marcus.

After a year in the force of elite men, Temos and Marcus had become the acknowledged leaders, and although Temos didn’t belong naturally to their particular tribe, he felt at home and had been happier in his new life than he had since his family had been destroyed.

Remo’s brown eyes had twinkled as he’d told his commander the story and commented: “Quite a firebrand that one, Hadrian, but,” he’d added sincerely, with a soft smile, “whoever can tame him will get a loyal-to-the-death warrior - and companion.”

Hadrian came back to the present with a sigh. “Oh Remo.” It was almost as though his lover had known Hadrian would be needing a new companion soon. He missed Remo’s loving companionship, his wise counsel, his quiet sense of humour, he would miss him all his days.

The commander’s bright blue eyes clouded and he shuddered as again he saw that red-tipped spear protruding from his lover’s chest, as Remo had pushed him violently to one side, taking the weapon and saving his partner’s life.

Violent death was too commonplace in a battle, and Hadrian had had to go on, winning that particular battle while mourning his friend. He would never forget Remo’s gentleness, compassion or sheer nerve, and although the pain had gradually lessened, it would never go completely.

Until tonight he’d thought the loving, softer part of him had died with Remo, yet in this lonely desert, he had found someone who made his heart beat faster, made him feel whole again, now he had someone to live for.

CHAPTER FIVE

In his own tent, the subject of the commander’s thoughts and desires was indulging in a little daydreaming of his own.

What a fascinating man Commander Hadrian was, thought Temos hazily, and much handsomer when he was in a relaxed mood, without the stern countenance he had in battle. Those bright blue eyes, with the mesmerizing darker ring, could be cold, but Temos remembered with a shiver of delight, how warm and friendly they had been while they talked over the Chek game.

He had seen Hadrian in full battle-dress often and had admired the tall, broad-shouldered figure, but that evening in the loose flowing robes, the older man had looked just as trim and strong as he did on the field of battle, his muscular and inner strengths very noticeable even in relaxed mood.

Temos smiled dreamily as he unbuckled his weapon belts and unlaced his sandals, recalling the soft light in those piercing blue eyes as they’d talked of his murdered family, and that was strange also, he’d never unburdened himself so openly to a stranger before.

He’d told Marcus and a few close friends about his family, and maybe others knew something of his past, but why had he, personally, told the commander?

Sighing, he shook his head, he didn’t know the answer to that question, apart from the fact that it had seemed right to tell the commander and Hadrian had been so understanding and sympathetic without being overbearing. The commander of this force was not so awesome off-duty as he was whilst leading his men into battle, decided the young man.

Temos’ body tingled as he remembered how their fingers had touched while reaching for a counter on the game-board, and the momentary flash of tenderness in the older man’s blue eyes.

The youth had been around men long enough to recognize desire when he saw it. Usually he chose to ignore it unless it became a threat to him, like that odious priest Salleed, Temos thought, wrinkling his straight nose in remembered disgust. Or, even when someone like Decius, seemed to take for granted his willingness to comply with their wishes without asking. Well, as the senior man had found out, Temos didn’t like being taken for granted, or used for their own purposes.

Temos was well aware of the fact that he was handsome and a lot of men and women desired and wanted to bed him. He was, however, secure in his own ability to defend himself from unwelcome advances and intelligent enough to keep his friendships intact with men whom he liked and respected, without submitting sexually to them. He already had the reputation of being a gambler and joker, but that was backed up by the undeniable fact of his courage and fighting ability.

He was closer to Marcus emotionally and physically than to any other, and although they petted and teased each other, Temos had never thought of Marcus as a lover. He knew Marcus loved him, but didn’t realise just how far his friend wanted to take their relationship. Marcus was his friend and brother, and that was the way Temos thought of him.

So why was he thinking of sexual partners in relation to Commander Hadrian? That stopped him in his tracks as he prepared himself for sleep.

Sitting on the edge of his low couch, Temos lowered his chin into his hands, elbows on his knees and stared at the animal pelt under his bare feet.

He felt an instinctive liking for Hadrian, who remained an unknown quantity even now although it was known he came from a powerful and prominent family in the capital, and was known personally by the Emperor and Empress.

He had been very close to a former officer Remo, it was whispered that they had been lovers as well as great friends. Unfortunately Remo had been killed in the recent fighting and Hadrian had remained alone ever since.

Temos sighed, a frown crossing his young face. It was hard to lose a friend in battle, and must be even worse if the two had been intimate. He had seen the tall figure of his commander walking in the early dawn light, closely shadowed by Bar-cus, very soon after the battle. Everyone else seemed to want to celebrate, or rest, but Temos could remember the pain in Hadrian’s drawn features and dark-ringed eyes, and knew his commander wasn’t tasting the sweet wine of victory, but the ashes of mourning.

Maybe he was seeing more than was there, he pondered, yet couldn’t help the shivery feeling of excitement when the thought entered his head that maybe Hadrian wasn’t grieving any more, but looking to the future.

If Hadrian was looking for another companion, might it be him? He blushed hotly as he remembered his defiant boast that he would choose his own partner. Still, Temos felt a strange thrill of anticipation at the thought of being the chosen one of Commander Hadrian. He smiled dreamily, he’d like that, under the right conditions of course. It wouldn’t do to appear too eager, after all he could be wrong, there were many fine and handsome young men in this army.

Slightly deflated at this thought, Temos stretched out to sleep, his dreams full of warm blue eyes and a smile that made his anxieties melt away. It was a refreshed and happy young man who was awakened by a trumpet heralding the dawn of a new day.

CHAPTER SIX

Being confined to his tent meant that Temos had no duties the next day and he was already finding the inactivity irksome before the first two hours had passed. He wanted to be outside, seeing to the welfare of his small band of scouts, talking with his friends, playing a friendly game of chance, or taking part in the athletic games the younger men were always arranging.

He stood in the doorway of his tent, watching the bustle of the camp and wishing he could go and talk to Marcus, who had always been his confidante, although he knew he couldn’t yet speak of his encounter with Hadrian.

With a sigh of impatience, he wandered back inside the shaded area, knowing that Marcus would sneak away from his own duties and visit him when he could.

To help pass the time until then, he brought out his box of paints and amused himself by painting his face and body with the designs of his warrior ancestors.

Becoming absorbed in his task, he was startled by the entry of the large Nubian, Bar-cus, who gruffly indicated that Commander Hadrian wanted to see Temos immediately.

The young man was momentarily at a loss, he didn’t think his commander would appreciate having a painted barbarian in his tent, yet it wouldn’t be wise to keep him waiting.

Grabbing a damp towel, Temos attempted to remove the paint from his face and body while Bar-cus waited, a scowl on his face.

Finally, the big man lost what little patience he had and growled menacingly, motioning to the doorway.

“All right, all right, I’m coming ...” protested Temos, hardly having enough time to grab up his weapon belts before being summarily hauled from his quarters.

Hadrian was busy at his writing table, when the dishevelled young man was ushered into his presence.

Temos stood to attention, extremely conscious of his tousled appearance and paint-smeared face and chest, and kept his eyes lowered in embarrassment until his commander spoke: “Come here. What is this?”

Temos wanted the ground to open up and swallow him at that point, but when Hadrian didn’t say anything more, he managed to raise his eyes to see that the older man’s blue eyes were friendly enough, but curious.

Temos haltingly explained that he had just been amusing himself by trying to recreate the tribal designs of his ancestors and had been caught unaware by the summons.

The Commander studied him critically, the faint traces of blue paint around the other's eyes, made them appear larger and brighter than he remembered, and he found himself inwardly approving but all he said was, "You may wash there ..." and indicated a bowl of water and towel lying on another table beside the cushion-piled couch.

Temos blushed as he went to the table and washed his face and arms thoroughly, removing all traces of the paint, finishing by running a damp hand through his rebellious hair in a vain effort to tidy it.

When he was done, he returned to where the commander sat at his table, still studying the maps spread over the polished top.

“Ah Temos,” Hadrian raised his eyes briefly to the freshly washed face and indicated a spot on the map. “Are you familiar with this area? I understand you have, on occasion, hunted near the Oasis of the Three Wells?”

Temos nodded, his breathing slowing as he slipped easily back into the military mode.

“Yes, Commander. I have scouted that area, about five weeks ago. We ran into some trouble five miles due east of this spot,” a suntanned finger pointed at the map. "Desert tribe, different to the ones we trade with."

Hadrian nodded. "We must find out more about this terrain. How much water and how far between wells." He straightened up.” I want you to take a patrol and see how far you can get in four days, including your return here.”

Temos nodded, his eyes still on the map, thereby missing the concerned gleam in the commander's eyes.

Hadrian needed accurate information about their future route and much as he hated putting such a responsibility on those firm young shoulders, and possibly sending their owner into danger, Temos was the best man for the job.

"How many men will you take?” asked the Commander.

Temos thought for a moment, "Six sir. We can travel quicker and go further with a small party and six should be adequate. Any larger number might cause comment if we’re seen, and if we run into a vastly superior force,” he shrugged his broad shoulders, “another couple of men won’t make any difference.”

He glanced up at his commander, whose face had returned to its usual impassive expression.

“Very well, Pathfinder Temos. I’ll look forward to seeing you in four days,” he paused, then smiled. “I’ll have the board set up to continue our game."

Temos looked faintly surprised and then smiled, the brilliance of that smile going straight to his commander's heart. "Thank you, Commander, I'll enjoy that."

He saluted and went out, his feet hardly feeling the ground, so proud was he of the trust and responsibility that had been placed upon him.

Still walking on air, he went to find Marcus, who wouldn’t want to be left out of this patrol, and to pick four more of his ablest men to accompany them.

CHAPTER SEVEN

It was a very long four days for the Commander, and his temper got noticeably shorter as the evening of the fourth day approached without any sign of the patrol.

He was trying to read a very long-winded report from another commander when a shout outside sent him to the doorway of his tent.

A crowd of soldiers were gathering at the horse-lines and with a nod of his head, he sent Bar-cus to investigate.

The Nubian was soon back, a faint smile lighting his dark eyes to report that Temos' patrol had returned.

“Three men wounded, none fatally, Chief Scout and all others intact,” he said simply, giving his worried master all the information he needed to know.

Hadrian heaved a great sigh of relief. "Ask Scout Temos to report to me as soon as he's seen to his men." he said quietly.

The Nubian nodded and disappeared again.

It was actually about thirty minutes later that Temos wearily approached his commander’s tent. He was tired, dirty and hadn't yet changed clothes, the stains of blood still evident on the leather kilt.

He saluted briskly enough, but the commander waved him to a seat. "Sit down. I take it all is not well?"

Temos smiled slightly. "No Commander. Everything went well for the first two days, we gained a lot of valuable knowledge - there is water for the first fifty miles..." he stopped and coughed a little, trying to clear his parched throat.

Hadrian poured a cup of water and handed it to him without speaking and Temos nodded his thanks, feeling strangely at ease in this tent now.

Draining the cup he went on huskily. "We had just started on our return journey when one of my men reported seeing one of the veiled tribesmen. He kept appearing and disappearing all that afternoon, but when we camped for the night about fifteen of them came down on us. Luckily most of them were on foot, and after we'd dispatched a third of their number, they were more cautious about attacking us.” He paused again, his voice hoarse and Hadrian filled another cup of water to help him continue.

“Under the cover of darkness, we set off on foot, leading our horses and it was dawn before they found us again. I decided to make a stand at a defensible spot. It was only a few rocks and one little palm-tree," he grinned reminiscently at Marcus' crude comment about the tree being hardly decent for one man to use, then hurriedly continued.

"Well they came at us again and this time, three of my men were wounded, one in the leg by a spear, but the tribesmen were really no match for us,” there was pride in his weary eyes as he spoke, and the commander felt himself nodding in agreement.

“The remainder - four of them I think, disappeared into the desert..." He stopped speaking, suddenly very weary, then added. "We had lost three of the horses and our provisions, so we took it in turn to walk"

"You're hurt?" asked the commander suddenly seeing fresh blood seeping from under the short tunic.

Temos looked up slowly, "Not seriously, commander. We all have cuts and scrapes from the knives and spears of the tribesmen. I'm just glad they didn't think to put poison on their blades, like some others I've heard about."

“You've done extremely well Temos, and I think after you've had that wound seen to, you deserve some rest.” Temos stood up a little shakily. Now that the danger was past and he'd returned in time, reaction was beginning to set in. He’d had no sleep for two days and his arm and side throbbed with a fiery pain. Must have been more than one spear, he thought hazily.

He and Marcus had walked for most of the way back, leaving the horses to the more seriously wounded, and it had been very hot, with precious little water and no food. He was so tired, if only he could get to his bed, he’d be fine.

He managed to give the commander the maps he'd made of their journey, before turning towards the doorway, stumbling as the inside of the tent faded in and out of his vision like a mirage.

Temos was vaguely aware of hands holding him, helping him to walk, then the softness of silken cushions against his weary body.

Commander Hadrian called for Bar-cus to fetch the surgeon, as he placed the exhausted young man on his own bed and unfastened the sleeveless leather shirt, revealing two wounds leaking blood from the young man’s side and left arm.

Temos felt it strange that he should be lying down, but he would just rest for a moment then get up and go back to his quarters; he wasn't seriously hurt after all, and he was a warrior. He was just tired, just rest his eyes for a moment. The comfort of the cushions and the cool caring hands on his skin, however, soon lulled him into relaxing completely, his eyes closed and he slept.

The commander gently unfastened the leather weapon belts and stood beside the couch, looking down worriedly at the sleeping figure. He was so glad his young Pathfinder was back safely. He hoped he'd never have to send him on a mission again, not without going with him.

He brushed the hair back from the sleeping face, so very young and very tired. It was quite a feat the six young men had accomplished and Hadrian resolved to make that fact public very soon...and to thank each one personally.

The surgeon entered hurriedly, he was a stocky, middle-aged man, with thin dark hair balding at the crown. He hesitated as he saw the commander apparently strong and well.

“Commander?”

Hadrian turned and smiled at the look of confusion. "No, Physician, your patient is here..." and he stood back from the couch, motioning to the figure lying there.

The surgeon stepped forward and with quick, but thorough hands, examined the young man. After a few minutes probing of the angry gashes, he cleaned the bleeding wounds and strapped them up tightly, asking the commander's help to lift the unconscious figure as he bandaged his lower chest, halting the slow trickle of blood.

Straightening at last, the surgeon wiped his hands on a clean towel. "He should recover shortly Commander. He's young and strong, it is exhaustion and loss of blood, that is the main cause of his collapse. The wounds are deep, but clean, it is merely a matter of rest and he should recover completely in a day or two."

The Commander nodded, "Thank you..."

The surgeon turned to re-pack his satchel. "He should wake up in a few hours. Shall I have him moved to his own quarters, Commander?"

Hadrian hesitated, he didn't really want to let Temos out of his sight, not yet at any rate. "No, I don't think that will be necessary,” he said calmly. "You say he'll wake up shortly?"

The surgeon nodded.

"Then we'll leave him here until he can walk back to his quarters. He won't bother me, I have reports and maps to study."

The surgeon nodded. That sounded reasonable, the commander was a kind and generous man. “Very well, sir.”

Hadrian smiled, he liked the older man. The man was an excellent surgeon, he didn't waste time on spells and potions, and didn't believe in bleeding a patient, especially one who had lost enough blood as it was.

As the physician started to leave, the commander held up a hand. "Have you seen the other young men from his patrol? Please report on their condition.”

The surgeon smiled quietly, "Yes, I’ve seen them, sir. They all have minor stab wounds and cuts; one scout has a serious leg wound, but he should recover in a week or two. They are all just very tired." He paused and glanced over at the couch. "Apparently that young man there is very popular, he and his friend Marcus walked most of the way back, saved the horses for the wounded. You have two fine young officers, commander."

The commander nodded slowly. "Thank you for telling me, Physician. I very much doubt whether I would have heard it from either of them."

"No, I don't think you would," and the older man smiled. "Will that be all commander, I have a boil to lance."

The commander laughed outright at the dry tone. "Yes, that does seem more urgent at the moment."

After the surgeon had gone, Bar-cus entered the tent and the commander told him that Temos would be staying here until he could walk to his own tent.

“I need to study his report and those maps, so unless it is very, very urgent, no disturbances.”

The servant bowed and left, taking up his position in the outer tent, no one would get past him.

Hadrian walked over to the couch again, noticing how clean the white bandages looked against the young man’s suntanned skin and a cold shiver went down his spine at the site of the wounds. Just a little better aim with that spear and he would never have seen him again. Shaking away the fear, he unfastened the sleeping man’s dusty sandals and pulled them off, then removed the bloodstained leather overkilt. Hesitating a moment, he then removed the under tunic, leaving Temos naked except for the linen pouch confining his genitals.

"You'll be more comfortable now, I think," he said softly, his eyes roaming over the slender body, thinking he had never seen so beautiful a figure in his life. Every inch was in almost perfect proportion to his height and weight.

He brushed the fingers of his right hand over Temos’ throat, smiling at the touch of silky stubble on the unshaven chin, before pulling up the light cover and tucking it carefully around the sleeping figure. Then with a last, long, regretful look, Hadrian walked to his writing table and picked up the maps and reports and started to study them.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Temos didn't get back to his own quarters until the evening of the next day, having slept the night and most of the morning. When he awoke, the Commander sent for some clean clothes and ordered him to stay there.

Bathed and dressed in his clean clothes, Temos felt a lot better, though he still ached from his wounds and exertions of the march, but eagerly consented when Hadrian pulled out the board and asked if he would like to have a game.

They played easily for a while, talking over the reports and the state of the terrain they would have to cover when the orders came to move: “If they ever do,” Hadrian said contemptuously.

Suddenly, Temos yawned and blushed scarlet. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Hadrian smiled, "No apology necessary, Pathfinder. I forgot you're still weak and tired." He paused. “I suppose you should return to your own quarters now, and get some more rest.”

There was a slight question in his tone that both excited and startled the youngster.

"I suppose so." he murmured in reply.

The Commander rose to his feet and gently pulled the smaller man up with him. Looking into the green-blue eyes, he said softly. "I think you have an inkling of my feelings towards you Temos, and so...”

With that, he cupped both hands to Temos’ face and lifted it gently towards his own. Bending slightly Hadrian kissed the other man’s lips, feeling them tremble, and part fractionally. Deepening the kiss, the more experienced man slipped his tongue gently between the even white teeth, tasting the sweetness that lay beyond.

Temos caught his breath, more than a little surprised, then his mouth opened under that probing and gentle caress, welcoming the commander's exploring and tantalizing tongue.

By the time they parted, Temos’ heart was hammering and he felt almost dizzy with surprise and happiness, so much in fact, that he had to lean against the older man’s broad chest for a moment.

The Commander's heart was racing too, all his wondering questions had been answered in that one kiss, the response being all that he could have wished for. The taste of that fresh young mouth, however, left him wanting more, and as Temos leaned against him, Hadrian’s hands slid round the younger man’s slim waist, pulling him closer. His fingers spread out over the slope of the rounded buttocks squeezing the firm globes with increasing fervor, but as Temos tensed and drew back, the commander released him, the effort of will over desire making him shake.

They stared at each other; Temos red-faced, trembling, Hadrian’s eyes burning with desire, and love. Temos couldn't speak but the trustful innocence in his wide eyes told the commander all he wanted to know, and yet, knowing that this wasn’t the time, Hadrian ruefully shook his head and turned Temos round, pointing him towards the doorway. "You'd better go now, before I do something we'll both regret,” he said with a smile.

Temos turned and sent him a delighted smile, before obediently going to the door, his aching side and arm forgotten, enthralled by the sudden realization that his commander loved him - or at least, the practical side of him warned, desired him. No, he argued back at himself, if that were all, he wouldn't have sent me out of the tent.

He wandered back to his quarters in a daze, not noticing the curious looks from passing soldiers.

When Marcus came in a few minutes later to inquire after his health, Temos was still dreamy-eyed and in a curious languid mood.

Marcus stared at him, "Temos, are you feeling all right?"

The younger man turned a dreamy, blue-eyed stare on him, and Marcus caught his breath, he'd never seen his friend look so desirable. His arms ached to hold him, and the sudden heat in his groin told Marcus they weren't the only physical parts he wanted to possess.

"I was wondering where you'd been these past two days," he began, hoarsely. "The men were getting quite concerned, thought you'd been hurt worse than we thought?”

Temos came back to the present with a thud and flushed. "I'm sorry Marcus. I have been in the commander's tent, he had the surgeon tend to me there. I've only just recovered from my sleep and he wanted to know about our mission.” He looked up eagerly, “He is very pleased with us, Marcus...he said so."

“Is that why you're so bright-eyed and pleased with yourself," commented Marcus, but his tone was only half joking.

Temos caught the underlying question, but didn’t answer. He couldn't even tell his best friend of his feelings at that moment.

"Anyway..." he went on, ignoring the unspoken question. "He intends to name us all in his dispatches to the General."

Marcus nodded, wondering why he didn't feel more thrilled, that was a great honor for them all, especially the ordinary ranked soldiers. “Yes, I know. The commander thanked us all personally.”

He shook off his uneasiness and soon they were laughing and talking as they usually did, going back over their journey, finding the little things that amused them both, to relive and laugh over, but both had the feeling that a turning point in their friendship had arrived, and neither really knew what to do about it and Marcus’s goodnight hug had a touch of desperation about it.

The next two days saw Temos on the surgeon's sick list and he spent a lot of this time with the commander, going over the maps and redefining his sketchy reports on his scouting expedition and the small group’s encounter with the desert warriors.

They were very happy days for both men, although nothing further had been said, it was rare for Temos to leave at night without having a warm embrace and even warmer kiss from his commander. The younger man enjoyed this closeness, but still tensed up as the large, warm hands roamed over his body, the commander had endless patience, however, never forcing anything more.

On the fourth day after Temos’ return to camp, the two men went hunting together, accompanied only by Bar-cus. They rode three fine black horses and Temos felt very grand as he followed slightly behind the commander as they left the horse-lines and headed out into the desert.

The hunting was very poor, but neither minded, it was the freedom from the busy camp they really needed, just time to be together, almost alone except for Bar-cus. Even the presence of the large Nubian, however, didn’t spoil their enjoyment, for such a large man he had this trick of seeming to fade into the landscape, and the two companions hardly knew he was there.

When it was time to make their noon rest Bar-cus was suddenly visible, making a fire and putting out fresh fruit and bread for their meal, then after unsaddling all three horses, took his own food to the other side of the pool to give them some privacy.

They were camped at a place called the Three Wells, a small, pretty oasis, some ten miles from the camp, that Temos had discovered on one of his scouting missions.

There was a cool, limpid pool of blue water, surrounded by a thick cluster of palm trees and tall reeds nodding to themselves in the clear water.

The commander and Temos lounged in the shade of the inner ring of palms, Hadrian’s red cloak with the large sapphire studded brooch, flung carelessly across the saddles and blankets, making a softer cushion for their heads.

Both were bare-chested, clad in short linen kilts, adequate wear for leisure times in the heat of the day. Temos was still sporting the bandage round his middle, but the wound in his arm was almost healed and was only lightly covered, with a single fold of cloth.

Temos' hair was braided loosely down the middle of his back, becoming slowly unbound under the caressing hand of his commander as they lay side by side, enjoying the simple repast and each other’s company.

Hadrian was thinking of something that Temos, in one of their many talks, had told him, of the various designs and paintings of his tribal ancestors. The Omerian had been fascinated, especially about the warrior-mate design. He had learned that the youngster's father had been warrior-bonded with the man Temos called Uncle Hephus, when they were both sixteen years of age. It had not stopped either man from marrying and raising families, they were just as much in love with their wives as they were with each other, so the boy had believed. The bond, once acknowledged, was very strong, virtually unbreakable.

Hephus had avenged the death of his bond-mate and family, but had received wounds from which he had died a few months later. Temos’ tutor, Julio, had said he'd died mainly from a broken heart.

Bar-cus was now out of sight, standing guard at the outer ring of palm trees, for they couldn't be too careful after the events of the past few days, but they had seen no sign of any other tribesmen, or hostiles, since they'd started out that morning.

Temos lazily licked his sticky fingers, trying to clean them of the dates he'd just eaten, then got up and wandered barefoot to the pool, to rinse his hands, then bent to splash the cool water over his face and neck.

The Commander lay watching him, admiring the play of muscle in the long bare legs, smiling as the younger man tossed his head impatiently as his hair unraveled even more, the sun burnishing it to a reddish gold. Hadrian’s belly knotted, then seemed to dissolve with need as the short kilt rode further up Temos’ thighs, his hands were itching to slide up those smooth legs and squeeze the almost exposed buttocks, his mouth yearning to taste that golden skin. The gentle kisses he'd given, and received these past two days, only left him wanting more.

Temos knew the older man wanted more from him, but he couldn’t totally surrender his body and his will to Hadrian. Although he was becoming more and more attached to the older man, the youth was cautious. This was partly due to not knowing what would happen if the commander tired of him and also too proud to accept a submissive role.

The idea of the bonding ceremony had been constantly on Hadrian’s mind, and the more he thought about it, the more the idea attracted him. Apart from the physical side, which would be more than satisfying, it would give Temos the security of knowing he had equal rights in the partnership. Even in the short time he'd known the young tribal warrior, Hadrian knew Temos wouldn't be happy with anything less than this.

Temos had eagerly allowed the commander to kiss him, pet him, touch him intimately, but anything else would have to be taken, by force if necessary. Once that happened, however, and the commander had no doubt that he would win such an encounter against the slighter, less experienced man, but what then? Afterwards he would have nothing. No companion, no friend. The only thing he could expect was a knife between his ribs. Hadrian smiled to himself at that thought, knowing already what a hot temper his young barbarian had; no man would ever take him a second time.

The commander shifted slightly on his cloak and sighed inwardly. He wanted much more than just one violent coupling - no matter how much he might enjoy that experience. Just looking at Temos gave Hadrian immense pleasure, he wanted to have the yellow-haired scout near him all the time. Wanted to be able to reach out and touch him, kiss him and feel the ardent response he had received last evening, not just from the youth’s sensuous mouth, but with the whole of his exciting body. So the commander’s mind kept returning more and more to that warrior-bonding ceremony. He was distracted from his thoughts as Temos rose to his feet, shaking the water from his hands and turning to smile at his companion.

Perhaps it was because his eyes were on his commander that Temos failed to notice how slippery the wet stones were at the side of the pool. His foot slipped off one and caught between a second, throwing him sideways, and he bit back a cry of pain as he felt his ankle crack.

He teetered dangerously, arms flung out to try and regain his balance, before he lost it completely and toppled sideways.

Hadrian, at the first sign of trouble had rolled lithely to his feet, leaping forward to reach Temos in a few quick steps, and managed to catch him before his already abused body hit the stones.

Supporting the slender figure with an arm round his waist, he bent down to examine the injured foot, then lifted Temos into his arms. Carrying the pale-faced scout back to the nest of blankets, he placed him carefully down, then knelt to look more closely at his foot. The ankle was already swelling as his strong fingers gently assessed the damage.

"Not broken, I think, but badly strained,” was his verdict.

Temos bit his lip against the pain of the probing fingers, knowing the commander was being as gentle as he could.

"That's fine, isn't it? I come out with my commander for a day's hunting, and end up being carried home, like a baby," he muttered in frustration, angry at his own clumsiness.

Hadrian raised his head to look into the flushed, angry face. "I don't think you're like a baby at all Temos, and I'm very glad of that fact," he teased softly, his blue eyes gleaming with humour. Then as his hand stroked further up the bare leg, over and past the knee to his thigh, the humour left his eyes, being replaced with desire. It wasn't until Temos’ eyes widened and he tensed drawing back a little, that Hadrian realised what he was doing, and where his hand was heading.

Halting the slow caress, Hadrian left his hand there for a moment, loving the feel of that lean, muscular thigh under his touch. They stared at each other for a breathless moment in time, the older man’s blue eyes burning with desire, the younger one’s surprised and a little awed.

Hadrian suddenly leaned forward, his mouth touching Temos’ lips, and kissed him gently. He’d meant the kiss to be reassuring, but the taste and feel of that smooth warm flesh made his good intentions fly away and he pushed Temos flat to the red cloak. As his hot tongue invaded his companion’s surprised mouth, his hand stroked up the younger man’s thigh and under the short kilt, brushing across the confined bulge of his genitals.

As the exploring fingers fumbled at the thong holding the pouch around his hips, Temos raised his hand, pushing against Hadrian’s chest, mumbling against the invading tongue. “No, commander,” but the protest was muffled and went largely unheard.

Beginning to panic when the heavier man didn’t remove his weight, Temos twisted his head trying to break away, pushing with both hands against the broad chest. Although his insides were melting with fire, he wasn't ready for this.

As suddenly as he had started, the commander drew back and sat upright, letting his hand trail lovingly down across those firm young thighs. He smiled a trifle breathlessly down into Temos' face.

"I understand, my young barbarian,” he whispered, in answer to the question blazing in the blue-green eyes. "I understand very well."

He hesitated then making up his mind, added, "The ceremony of the Lunar Goddess will be in seven days time, and I think from what you've told me, the warrior bonding ceremony of your tribe falls about the same time?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Temos, after a moment's thought, nodded. "Yes, sir. The day after."

His tone was puzzled, what did this have to do with the commander's present actions. Temos had wanted to respond to that kiss, his body had wanted the touch of those warm strong hands, but something deep within him had rebelled. He wasn't going to be the commander's latest conquest, to be discarded when the Legion moved on, although the way he was beginning to feel about this handsome Omerian, that would be better than nothing at all. No! Temos’ ancestors were of noble blood, just as the commander’s were. He wasn't going to be used for a short time, then left to fend for himself against the advances of the other men who would take his rejection by the commander as an invitation to try their luck.

Not all of them, of course, Marcus would stand by him, he would be there to help him, Temos knew that without any doubt. But oh, how he wanted Hadrian to kiss him again, not roughly as he had just done, but tenderly like before; his cheeks flamed as he realised he was gazing a trifle longingly at his commander's mouth.

The older man snuggled closer to him, putting one arm around Temos’ shoulders in a loose but warm embrace, feeling Temos stiffen, then relax into the comforting grasp.

"Well, Temos. I was wondering how you would feel about using those two ceremonies to become warrior-bonded with me?"

Temos looked round at him, hardly believing what he’d just heard, then seeing the blue eyes smiling so fondly at him, answered slowly. "I don't think you quite understand Commander, such ceremonies are for life.” He was trembling inwardly at the other's closeness, but also with the sudden hopefulness in his own heart. Did the Commander really know what he was suggesting?

Hadrian nodded, "I know. I understand that." He tightened his grip just a little. "I’ve already made up my mind." Then he grinned suddenly, adding in a slightly mocking tone, "After all, a commander in the Emperor's legion is used to making decisions." His voice changed becoming deeper and more sensual, “and this is the most important decision of my life, I think." His mouth kissed the rim of Temos' ear making him squirm with embarrassed pleasure.

"But, how can you know for sure? I mean, we've only been aware, really aware of each other for about seven or eight days." Temos had to be quite sure he wasn’t dreaming all this, and that his strong-minded, handsome, companion understood what he was asking.

"I know," the commander insisted gently and firmly, "the only problem remaining is, do you feel the same about me?"

Temos opened his mouth to say, Yes, oh yes, then hesitated, remembered his own words: such ceremonies are for life.

Was his fascination with the commander genuine, or just curiosity? Was he merely flattered at being picked out to be the Commander’s constant companion these last few days? Or did the attraction between them go much deeper? He certainly liked Hadrian, admired his fairness in command and judgment, his bravery in battle, and the gentle side he'd shown to him on numerous occasions. Was that enough for love to grow?

Hadrian had opened his heart to him, told him of Remo, and Temos had read between the spare words, sensing the desolation in Hadrian’s heart at the loss of his friend, companion and lover. Even before Hadrian had seen him at the wrestling contest and offered him a cautious friendship, Temos had sensed the older man’s loneliness.

Now, seemingly that friendship had turned to love, but Temos wasn't sure yet that he wanted such a long-term commitment. He was very young, and forever was a long, long time.

Despite his natural caution, however, he thought he was beginning to fall in love with Hadrian, and was hoping the commander would be patient with him. They hadn’t yet made love, Temos’ pride and belief in his tribal customs wouldn’t allow that level of intimacy, but he didn’t want Hadrian to lose interest, or be disappointed in him.

Temos’ head began to ache as his thoughts became trapped in a circle: he loved Hadrian, so why couldn’t he commit himself to a warrior-bonding? Was it because for Temos it would be for life?

His father and his warrior-mate had been very happy, it had shown even to a small boy who hadn’t quite understood the full implications of that bonding. Would he and Hadrian be as happy and committed?

Temos raised his confused eyes, seeking to make the commander understand. “I think I do,” he said slowly, “but I’d like to be certain.”

Hadrian nodded understandingly, realising that Temos needed time to come to terms with his proposal. He was very young, yet older than his father had been when he’d been bonded, but his father had been brought up with the idea, probably had his mate picked out when they were boys.

Hadrian would be patient, he had everything to gain and he intended to win this very precious man as his lover and his soul-mate.

He smiled down into the anxious eyes and put two careful fingers over Temos’ mouth.

"Well, you have a few days to think about it and make your decision," then added, "but until you do, we'll go on as before."

Temos nodded in relief, his heart overflowing at the understanding and compassion of his new friend.

The commander pulled him closer again, “But that doesn't stop us from sharing a little pleasure, does it, my fiery young barbarian?"

With that he bent his head, capturing Temos’ trembling lips and, sensing his uncertainty, kissed him gently, then gradually deepened the kiss, until Temos was lying in his arms, panting for breath, returning the kisses with fervor.

It wouldn't hurt his cause, thought the Commander, to give him a taste of what to expect. Even as the thought crossed his obsessed mind, his arms tightened round the slender waist, pulling Temos closer and closer. His fingers strayed to touch the soft nipples, feeling them harden under his stimulating touch, his other hand tangled in the younger man’s thick hair, holding his head to him.

Temos moaned softly, beginning to drown in the waves of sensation assaulting his body and his senses as the Commander's sure touch and demanding mouth sent rivulets of fire to every portion of his body, till they began to centre in his groin.

His own arms tightened around the commander's upper body, trying to get even closer, the warning bell ringing in his head drowned out by the pounding of his heart as the blood raced through his veins, feeling their bodies slide down to lie closely entwined on the red cloak.

The need to breathe finally forced them apart and Temos lay against Hadrian’s broad chest, breathless and dazed at his own response, as well as the commander's. Daring to look up, he met the sapphire eyes, wide and hazy with pleasure, with banked-up fires of desire, need, and love, burning behind the tenderness.

Temos shivered at that look, realising how close he was to abandoning his principles and discipline of years to give and receive the ultimate pleasure.

With an effort of will that made him groan inwardly, he drew back, panting as though he’d run a long race, still enclosed within the circle of the commander's arms, loving the feel of the strong hand in his hair and on the bare skin of his waist.

The Commander too, had to draw back from his other world, that had held only visions and sounds and touch; of that lithe body straining against his, the taste of dates on that welcoming tongue, the feel of soft buds hardening under his hand as he caressed Temos' tanned chest.

Even more stimulating to Hadrian was the memory of those long legs parting under his thrusting knee and Temos' full groin swelling against his own equally swollen body. The Commander knew at that moment, that if he pushed just a little harder, kissed his companion again like that, he would have everything he'd wanted for the past eight days. Temos! Loving, trembling with desire, surrendering his whole being to his lover.

In that same instant, however, he knew it would be the last time. Temos wouldn't forget or forgive either of them for betraying his ancestors teachings and tribal law, and they would have no future together.

So he contented himself with stroking the long silky hair and caressing the bare ribs, waiting until Temos brought himself under control, needing the time also to get his own emotions under control.

At last he said, hoarsely, "I think we'd better get back to camp, they'll be sending a search party if we're not back by dusk."

Temos nodded wordlessly, infinitely grateful for the commander's restraint, he’d been lost in his own private world of desire and longing. Now, it was back to reality, and the decision he had to make, which at this moment, was a foregone conclusion. He had never felt this way about any person in his life, not in all his romances with the ladies of the towns, not in all the teasing and petting with Marcus, nor the rougher demands of Decius, none of them had made him feel so cherished and loved.

He drew back, his hands automatically going to sweep his hair back, but the commander's hands were there first, smoothing the thick locks back, starting to braid it loosely. Temos sat still, his head slightly bent, finding it achingly pleasant to feel the other man's hands on his head.

Too soon for them both, Hadrian finished tidying his companion's unruly locks, and patted him gently on top of the shining mane, more of a caress than anything else.

Temos smiled his thanks and started to get up, forgetting about his injured ankle. As he placed his full weight on the injured foot, he fell back, biting back a moan of pain.

Hadrian quickly called for Bar-cus, whose silent, out-of-sight presence had also been forgotten in their total absorption in each other.

The huge man came swiftly towards them, neither by word nor gesture revealing if he had seen them so intimately entwined.

After examining the injury gently, Bar-cus crossed to the saddlebags and brought back a jar of sweet-smelling ointment, and proceeded to smooth it over Temos' foot and ankle, which was now swollen quite badly. Then, damping a clean cloth in the pool, bound it tightly around the injured foot, giving it some support for the ride back.

After saddling the horses and tidying the camp, he stood by, waiting to help the young scout into his saddle

Trying to keep his balance on one foot, Temos was surprised to find himself picked up in two, huge-muscled arms and placed gently in his saddle.

Slightly embarrassed he smiled down at the Nubian. "Thank you," he murmured, and was pleased to see a faint answering smile light the big man's eyes, before he turned back to his commander and stood waiting patiently.

The Omerian put one hand on his shoulder in a familiar gesture of thanks, and mounted his horse and they were soon making their swift way back to the encampment.

As they neared the horse lines, the sentries halted them, then allowed them to pass, recognizing their commander.

Arriving at the horse-lines, Temos was helped from his mount and Hadrian gave orders for him to be taken to his quarters, before retiring to his own tent, having to see to the affairs of the camp that had been left for his return.

Temos had a lot of thinking to do, but before he could even remove his weapon belts, Marcus came bursting in, his face anxious and enquiring.

"What happened to you? Fall off your horse?" he chuckled, which was a standing joke between them. Marcus was the one who fell off horses, yet his concerned eyes belied his flippant tone.

"Something like that,” Temos smiled, then explained casually that he'd slipped on a wet stone and turned his ankle.

"Clumsy," laughed Marcus, only slightly relieved, "and not quite the thing to do in front of your commanding officer, eh?"

There was a curious sad look in his dark eyes, and Temos’ heart lurched a little. He realised that if he chose his heart's desire, he would be hurting a true and loving friend. Marcus knew him too well, his friend was so attuned to him, his moods and emotions, that he must know that something tremendous had happened to him over the past few days.

Knowing Marcus as he did, Temos knew his friend was already suspicious of the commander but Temos couldn't yet speak of his precious secret, he had to clear his own mind, and the commander would have to be the first to know his decision.

Marcus stayed for a long time, battling in his own way for his heart's desire, but knowing in time that he had lost.

So, after helping Temos prepare for bed and re-bandaging his ankle, Marcus gave him a sudden fierce hug, then kissed him, hard at first showing his want, then gently and lovingly, trying to tell his younger friend, without words, he'd always be there.

Temos returned the embrace, trying to ease the hurt he knew was in the other's heart, but he couldn't help the way he felt about the commander, or about Marcus. He loved them both but was in love with only one.

When Marcus at last went out, throwing a kiss over his shoulder, it almost broke Temos’ heart at the tenderness of the gesture.

CHAPTER NINE

Temos did not see the Commander the next morning as he'd planned. Not only was it impossible for him to walk on his injured ankle, there was also a visiting Tribal Chief and his entourage to be entertained.

Hadrian relied heavily on the goodwill of such local dignitaries, as they were instrumental in providing a large part of the necessary food for his army, he preferred to have them as friends, rather than spend time and manpower in keeping them in check by force, with all that implied.

So Temos had to wait, very impatiently, for them to be gone.

He lay on a couch under the awning of his tent, with his foot propped up on cushions, watching the activity outside, this was the second time in two weeks, he'd been forced to stay inactive and he didn't like it.

He had watched the Arabs in their flowing robes arrive on horseback and had withstood the interested scrutiny of the dark eyes as they passed, with complete unconcern.

His thoughts had been turbulent these past hours. He’d been saddened by Marcus's obvious distress. He knew his friend had guessed part of what had happened but was unwilling to believe it.

Temos sighed, he would have to believe it eventually, because in the dark hours of the night, he'd made up his mind. He wanted this bonding, he'd never wanted anything so much in his adult life and he'd wanted to get up and tell the commander his decision in the middle of the night.

As that was manifestly impossible, the main thing preventing this was he couldn't walk unaided, and it would cause comment, if nothing else, for a junior officer to arrive at his commander's tent, unannounced and in the dead of night.

So he had tried to sleep, but was too excited and anxious. He'd lain awake, going over the events of the past two weeks in his mind, smiling secretly to himself as he thought of the commander. How those dark-ringed blue eyes had lit up when he'd seen Temos waiting at the horse lines yesterday, before their hunting trip; the touch of Hadrian’s hands and lips, shivering in delight at the memory of the kisses they'd exchanged.

Then his memory had been of Marcus' laughter, how his dark-eyed friend had kept him amused in the past, his caring presence when he'd been ill, or wounded. Temos sighed, he would miss that easy intimacy with Marcus, he hoped they would still be friends. He needed Marcus just as much as he did the commander; not for the same reasons, but need him, he certainly did.

As Temos lay, alternatively dreaming and planning, he was unaware that he was the subject of much speculation and discussion in the H.Q. tent.

Hadrian had been hard-pressed to be civil, he was bored and frustrated. He missed having Temos around, and having to entertain and listen to his visitors' outpourings of complaints and protestations of help and the reasons why they couldn't help more. The weather; the camels; the wells.

Suddenly, he was aware that one of the older chiefs was leaning forward to say something to his interpreter, they all had their own men, usually a relative, even though Hadrian could make himself understood in their various dialects and could also understand a good deal of what they were saying, when he chose.

The chief had a question: "All the soldiers in camp, they belong to the Commander?”

Now what? thought Hadrian, frowning slightly, knowing that these were a very devious people.

"They all belong to the Emperor," he said cautiously, "I hold them in trust for my Emperor."

The chief nodded and sat back. There was a long pause, then another man asked a question and drew Hadrian’s attention away, but a warning bell was sounding loud in his mind.

That old chief wanted something, that he didn’t think Hadrian would let him have.

The talk turned, inevitably, to wives and female companions, the desert men were curious about the commander, "Did he not have a wife or wives here, or at home in the land beyond the hills?"

Hadrian shook his head and gave his usual reply, "I am a soldier. I have no time to settle down with a wife and family as yet, I move around too much, a soldier must go where his Emperor tells him." He braced himself for the usual, knowing he was going to be offered more female relatives of the chiefs, sent to ease his lonely bed, but usually sent to spy for their masters, whether they be husbands or fathers.

"Oh, that is a shame," the Tribal Chiefs were very sympathetic. "Would the commander not consider taking one of their wives or concubines?" sometimes it was even one of their daughters, thought Hadrian with an inward smile, hardly listening as the interpreter droned on “ ...for company, as the commander of such a gallant army must get bored at nights, and lonely perhaps. He could have the pick of their harem, any one of the women would be pleased to come to the commander when he wished."

Hadrian smothered a curse and a smile at the same time. Even if he’d been lonely enough to accept one of the offers, it wouldn’t be wise; it would push that particular Chief too far up the list of helpers, encouraging him to take advantage. Then the others would be insulted, get disagreeable and obstinate, and he would have even more trouble at getting them to honour their agreements. There was also the question of security. A few nubile young women with the run of the camp, for Hadrian wasn’t foolish enough to think they would only stay in his tent, would be too much for the discipline of his men. The women would be out to cause trouble; for no matter how helpful the chiefs were to the soldiers, they still considered them to be invaders.

So with many a flowery phrase that he'd learned in his time of dealing with strange customs and tribes, he declined the offer graciously, without leaving them any opportunity to feel slighted, or angry. I'm getting better at this, he thought.

Of course as the custom of the country, he knew he would have to offer them something in return, usually it was gold. He knew that sometimes they made the offer of female company knowing he would refuse just to get their hands on more army gold, or something else they craved from the outside. It could be anything from a bronze bathtub to a full set of body armour, this time, however, Hadrian was in for a shock.

The elder chief leaned forward again, and said something to his interpreter, who was a nephew of sorts, who duly asked: "Would the commander ask his friend, the Emperor, if he would let him have the young, yellow-haired soldier with the bandaged foot? He would like to add this simple soldier to his retinue, he would look rather splendid standing guard at my uncle's door.”

While the flowery phrases rolled off the interpreter's tongue, Hadrian had time to get his rage under control. He was more than just angry, he was furious, he had no illusions as to the kind of duties his young scout would be required to perform, and when he wouldn't, Hadrian knew this beyond any shadow of doubt, that beautiful body would be whipped and abused.

His mind raced furiously, his first inclination had been to stand up and tell the chief to go jump into Hades, but that was the one thing he couldn’t do, he still needed their cooperation.

He frowned sadly and shook his head, "My deepest apologies Chief Abu Abdullah, but the young, yellow-haired soldier is not mine to bestow. He is a hostage of my Emperor, and as such, must be kept within my sight, always.”

He knew the tribes understood the meaning of a hostage of the state, they did the same with their own enemies, keeping a relative in their own habitat to make sure they weren’t invaded without warning.

“If my Emperor found out that I had given the soldier as a gift, he would have my head.”

The chiefs murmured at that, understanding the threat veiled in the quiet voice. “Anything else that you desire I would be pleased to offer it as a gift...” and he left the half promise hanging in the air.

After the tribal chiefs had left, Hadrian released a huge sigh of relief. He hated this kind of protocol, and missed Remo most of all at these times. His friend used to have a way of calming things down and smoothing over any awkward silences or actions.

He was still uneasy about the way they had taken an interest in Temos, and as soon as he could, he sent for the young pathfinder.

Temos limped into his presence, helped by Bar-cus, who then prudently departed, closing the inner lining of the tent to keep out the heat, was his excuse.

Hadrian helped Temos to a seat on the cushioned bench, and held his hands, looking intently into the green-blue eyes.

They were dazzlingly clear and shining with an inward glow that took the older man's breath away. The commander's heart flipped as a possible reason for the younger man's excitement presented itself. “You, you have made a decision?” he asked, masking the quaver in his voice.

Temos nodded, his beaming smile filling the space with sunshine.

“Yes sir.” Then turning Hadrian's hands over in his, he lifted one and placed it against his smooth chest, “I would be honoured to be bonded with you,” he declared simply.

Hadrian's heart soared with ecstatic happiness, and not a little relief. His wonderings were over, Temos would be his soul-mate and lifelong partner.

CHAPTER TEN

Hadrian didn’t want to let his young partner-to-be out of his sight after that breathtaking declaration of commitment and love, but being the commander of this far-flung outpost, his time wasn’t his own, and to both men’s disappointment, a messenger arrived to say that one of the tribes seemed to be breaking camp, gathering their livestock and families and preparing to move.

This was one of Hadrian’s biggest headaches, the nomads tended to move without informing him first, and as it was part of his duty to know where they settled, just in case the men were joining the rebels, he would have to show the army’s presence and persuade them not to leave the area.

Cursing fluently under his breath, he sent for his officers and then turned to where Temos was sitting tensely on the edge of the couch, his own disappointment written across his handsome young face.

“Damn these tribal chiefs,” murmured Hadrian, taking the younger man’s hands between his own. He managed a smile as he pulled Temos to his unsteady feet. “I would much rather spend this evening with you, my love, but...”

“Duty calls you, Commander,” Temos said softly, his eyes moving caressingly over the larger man’s face. It felt to Hadrian like a secret kiss, and he bent his head to claim the responsive mouth conveniently placed just below his own.

The kiss was just this side of chaste, as Hadrian wanted to be able to take his time making love to this gorgeous young man when they were properly bonded and with no interruptions.

“I hope this won’t take too long to settle, Temos,” said Hadrian when he reluctantly released the young scout from his embrace, “the tribal chief may just want a small reminder as to whose side he has pledged to serve.”

“I shall be counting the hours my Commander,” whispered Temos with a twinkling smile that set Hadrian's pulses racing

“As shall I,” replied Hadrian, “When I return we can settle the finer details of our bonding, if you agree.”

Temos lowered his sparkling eyes for a brief second then glanced up at the taller man.

“That is most acceptable,” he said primly, then laughed for the sheer joy of knowing he was loved and in love with this bold warrior.

Hadrian gazed at the younger man for long moments, gathering the image of the laughing face to hold in his heart while they were parted, vowing that when they were bond-mates they would never be parted again.

It was several hours later and Temos was tossing restlessly on his couch unable to sleep, partly due to the heat which still hovered over the camp, but mainly because he was missing Hadrian's presence already.

Sighing, he rolled onto his side and lay looking at the patch of starlit sky he could see through the opening of the tent flap, wishing the dawn would come quickly so that he could watch for the return of his soon-to-be-lover. That thought brought a smile and a faint blush to his cheeks: lover - even the word sounded thrilling, although he had heard it hundreds of times before, but never quite in so personal a connection.

Yawning, he closed his eyes and dreamily wondered what the future might hold for Hadrian and himself. He wasn’t so naive as to assume that every day would be as wondrous as the first time they’d declared themselves, Hadrian had duties he must uphold and Temos, as chief pathfinder, also had a role to play in this army’s exploration. Many people might also look askance at the idea of such a well-known military officer taking such an outsider as his bond mate, yet given just half a chance they would succeed as both were determined men who loved each other.

Drifting lazily on the wings of these thoughts, Temos fell asleep, the smile still on his face at the future he would share with his commander.

He was awakened by a slight scuffle and a shadow fell over his recumbent body. Startled, he started to sit up, but was abruptly slammed back into the cushions by the heavy weight of two men.

Before he could do more than give a shout of alarm, his mouth was covered roughly with a strip of cloth, then he was smothered in the folds of a heavy blanket, which, must to his disgust, reeked of camel.

Kicking and struggling he proved to be quite a handful for the two attackers but their superior weight and strength gave them the upper hand and Temos was finally reduced to a squirming heap wrapped in cloth and bound round with strong rope.

Half choked with the gag and the heavy material over his upper body, Temos paused in his struggles while he listened to his captors.

Tribesmen he thought incredulously, recognizing the muttered words. What are they doing in the camp? Is it an all out attack? How did they get past the guards?

These were the thoughts racing through his shocked mind and now, more alarmed at the thought of the camp being over run with armed tribesmen, he started to struggle again, but to no avail, the ropes were tied too tightly and his head was swimming from lack of air.

He was conscious of being lifted and thrown over a muscular shoulder and was carried from the tent still trying to make a noise loud enough for someone to hear him.

Suddenly there was a shout and the man carrying him started to run, his wriggling burden bouncing heavily on his back.

Confused sounds filtered through the enveloping blanket and the running man swerved and went down on one knee, Temos’ head and shoulders hitting the ground with a thud as he slipped from his captor’s grasp.

Rolling over still bound by the stifling cloth, Temos became aware of another pair of hands, or maybe the same ones, picking him up again, and the flight continued.

The camp was roused however and suddenly his captor stopped and flung his load to the ground making his victim’s head ache again as it met the hard earth once more.

Half conscious, Temos lay still, winded and dazed by the fall, but at least the material had slipped from his head and he could now see the sky.

His eyes opened wide as a black-bearded face loomed over him blocking his view of the velvet, star-streaked sky and a dagger flashed silver in their soft light.

The tribesman snarled, what Temos recognized as a curse and plunged the dagger down at the helpless young scout.

Suddenly the knife arm was grasped by two hands and forced up and away from the silently struggling youth and then the man was gone, a scream of agony splitting the night with his death cry. For a few further moments Temos lay unknowing of his own fate, then a face came into view, its expression creased with concern and relief.

It was Decius.

Half an hour later, Temos was lying in his own tent, his aching head resting on a soft cushion, a damp cloth on his brow to ease the bruising already beginning to show on his fair skin. He wasn’t alone, as Marcus was sitting beside him, occasionally changing the cloth for a fresh one.

“What is happening?” asked Temos suddenly.

Marcus shrugged broad shoulders. “Nothing for you to worry about, Temos.”

Temos struggled up onto one elbow, the cloth sliding down over his cheek. “Marcus, I want to know.”

His friend sighed as he caught the material, knowing that tone of voice. “Decius is attending to the survivor. He’ll get to the bottom of the incident.”

“Incident!” Temos snorted, then sank down again with a faint groan as the ache in his head made him dizzy.

“Let that be a lesson to you, young man,” scolded Marcus, placing a fresh cloth on his companion's broad forehead. “Sub-Commander Decius knows what he is doing.”

He raised a warning finger as Temos opened his mouth to speak, “...and the surgeon said you had to rest. That was quite a heavy blow to your head.” He grinned. “Just as well, you have a thick skull, isn't it?”

Temos opened one eye and glared balefully at his friend and present tormentor. “Speaking of thick skulls,” he began, then stopped as a tall figure stepped into the tent.

“Are you all right, Temos?” asked Decius, a worried frown on his stern face.

“He will be,” drawled Marcus.

“Temos?”

“I’m fine Sub-Commander,” replied Temos, swinging his legs over the side of the couch, ignoring Marcus’ hand as the dark-haired man tried to stop him. “Have you found out what they wanted with me?”

Decius gave a shake of the head. “Not specifically. The one who was going to kill you is dead, and his companion escaped,” he said with a scowl.

“It will be those Chiefs,” declared Marcus. “I wouldn't trust them as far as I could throw my horse. All their tribes are thieves and rascals.”

“Yes, but I’m not wealthy,” protested Temos. “They wouldn’t get any ransom for me at all.”

Decius stared hard at him, wondering if he was as innocent as he sounded, then realised that the puzzled look on the handsome young face was genuine enough.

“It’s not only money the Chiefs are interested in,” he said dryly. “You would be quite a prize in any tent.”

Temos stared at him, then a tide of red suffused his face as he realised what the older man meant. “Oh," he said faintly, and decided to lie down again.

Marcus shared an anxious look with Decius. “Do you think they will try again?” he asked softly.

The older man shrugged. “The camp is properly awake now, they won’t chance another attack tonight,” he said.

“I hope you’re right,” murmured Marcus. “The Commander will be furious when he returns. We know now why that tribe was preparing to move.”

Decius nodded, his eyes still on the young man lying on the couch. “Yes. Probably a decoy to draw some of the men away.”

Temos was listening to them talk, still full of embarrassment at Decius’ assumption that it was his person the Chiefs wanted, not a ransom.

Suddenly there was a shout from outside, announcing the return of the patrol Decius had sent to find the would-be kidnapper who had escaped into the darkness.

“I will return soon,” the senior man said and left the two friends together.

Marcus sat beside the couch and stared at his friend. “How are you feeling now?” he asked seriously.

“I’ll be fine, just a headache,” smiled the fair-haired scout.

Marcus paused, then went on softly. “How about your other feelings?”

Temos raised a dark-blond eyebrow “Other feelings?” he queried, yet not being able to prevent the pink tide rising to his cheeks again.

“Yes, and don’t try to deny it. I’ve watched you these past few days, you are different...” He raised a hand helplessly. “I’ve known you a long time, Temos. Want to tell me what is going on in that blond head of yours?”

Temos sighed. He knew that this moment would come but would have chosen another time and place to tell his best friend.

“Yes, Marcus. I have made a great decision, one that will affect me for the rest of my life.” He paused, then sat up on the side of his bed, lifting shining eyes to his serious-faced companion. “I am in love with Commander Hadrian, and we are to be bonded as mates very soon.”

He put a hand on Marcus’ forearm. “I hope you will be happy for me Marcus, and I would like your blessing.” There was no reply and he went on a trifle anxiously. “You are my best friend, Marcus. Please say that you understand.”

Marcus shifted uncomfortably - yet couldn't bring himself to shake off the warm hand on his arm. “Are you quite sure about this, Temos?” he asked hoarsely. “You barely know the Commander.”

“I know.” Temos paused and tried to see into his friend’s downcast eyes. “Yet the short time we have spent in each other’s company has been like ... like I've known him for always.” He gave a small laugh. “It’s strange to me too, Marcus. I never thought I could feel this way about any man.”

He felt Marcus move uneasily and realised that this wasn’t what the other man wanted to hear, but he had always been honest with Marcus and couldn’t stop now.

He tightened his grip on the strong arm. “You know that I’ve never felt this way about anyone else, you are the closest person in my life, and I love you dearly ....”

Marcus stood up, unable to sit still another moment. “Yes, I know that Temos. You love me dearly - as a brother. Right?”

Temos nodded, his green eyes shaded with worry and confusion. “Yes,” he stated simply. “I always will.”

“Of course, but never the way in which I wanted it to be,” cried Marcus, his despair and anger gradually rising until he was choking with it.

Temos got to his feet, trying to make the taller man look at him. “Marcus, please, please look at me.”

The darker man stood stiffly, hands clenched into tight fists. He wanted to hit something, or someone very hard. Yet that voice he’d always trusted and loved went on beating at the stubborn wall of his fury.

“Marcus. You have to understand. All my life I’ve been waiting for Hadrian. I didn’t know it, and certainly wasn’t looking for a life-partner when we took on this task.”

He moved round in front of his friend, forcing him to look him in the face. “Look at me. I’m still the same man who has fought by your side, laughed with you in the taverns, helped you play jokes on the elders.”

His voice grew husky. “Marcus, understand this. That side of me that belongs to you and the past, will never change.” He paused, then went on slowly. “But I have never thought of you in the way you now tell me you feel for me. I didn’t know and I’m very sorry that I’ve caused you this pain.” Temos stood tensely, willing the other man to understand. When the silence had stretched into minutes, his shoulders drooped and he went to sit on the edge of the couch, his legs trembling with tiredness and strain.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of misery. He closed his eyes to shut out the sight of a stranger standing where his friend of many years had once been.

Marcus’ thoughts churned in circles, unable to accept what he’d heard, but also knowing that if he walked away now, it would be the end for them both.

He turned to look down at his companion, who was now lying on the couch, an arm over his eyes to shield his torment and misery.

As always, the mere sight of Temos brought all Marcus’ protective instincts to the fore, and he took a deep steadying breath then sat down beside the recumbent figure.

“Temos, I cannot say that I am pleased to hear your news...”

Temos lowered his arm, but before he could speak, Marcus went on: “But as you said, we’ve been brothers-in-arms for a long time and I cannot desert you now - when you may need a friend more than ever.”

Temos’ expression brightened, the sunshine coming back to warm his eyes once more. “Oh thank you, Marcus. I didn’t want to break our friendship. I’m so very happy that you...”

Marcus held up a warning hand, cutting in to the excited babble. “Don’t expect me to be as thrilled as you seem to be,” he gave a wry grin. “The Commander does nothing for me.”

Temos sat up, smile threatening to meet behind his ears. “I’m very glad about that,” he teased.

Marcus' expression sobered. “I hope that you will be happy Temos. If I thought otherwise...” he shrugged, then put an arm around his friend’s shoulder. “Now how’s the headache?”

Whatever Temos was about to say was never uttered as another disturbance heralded the arrival of a messenger, and they waited to hear what the news might be.

Decius listened to the message then dismissed the travel-stained scout, then made his way back to inform the two scouts what had happened.

“The Commander is on his way back,” he said brusquely, eyeing the two younger men with a fierce look.

“WHAT?” Temos cried, his eyes sparkling, his cheeks on fire.

This reaction was not lost on Decius and he scowled even more. He had been outside and had heard some of the conversation between the two friends and was consumed with jealousy.

He’d been on the point of entering the tent to berate Temos for his foolishness when the scout had arrived and had been diverted. Now he had even more to contend with.

“He wasn't supposed to be back until tomorrow - or rather later this morning,” said Marcus, as he realised that dawn was not far away.

He glanced towards the east where the horizon was starting to glow with a pale translucent green and pink, which was the forerunner of the usually beautiful desert sunrise.

“The men I sent out after the escaped tribesman met up with Commander Hadrian’s scout, he knows about the incident.” Decius said abruptly, trying without too much success to keep the fury out of his tone, as he thought of the returning Hadrian and what would greet him on his return.

Temos! Bonded to the Commander, would destroy all his own hopes in that direction. He gave another glance at the human object of his desire, then stalked outside. He needed a large jug of the fiery local spirit to calm his rage.

Marcus looked at Temos, who shrugged resignedly. Decius seemed strange and withdrawn a lot of the time, but he was too happy at the prospect of seeing his returning commander to worry too much about the sub-commander's moods.

Marcus sighed. If there had been any doubt in his mind regarding Temos' feelings for the handsome leader of the army, it would have soon dispersed under the warmth in the bright eyes of his friend.

Temos' eyes were changing to the same shade of jade and blue as the approaching dawn which coloured the brightening sky.

“I suppose you will be quite happy to see Hadrian again,” he commented dryly to his excited friend.

Temos spun round. “What...?” Then realising he was being teased, he grinned and smote Marcus on the shoulder.

“Just a little,” he murmured.

“Oh well, better get you all cleaned up then,” retorted Marcus, eyeing Temos’ disheveled appearance.

“Oh yes,” said Temos, glancing with distaste at the dusty and rumpled tunic he’d been wearing, which also showed red streaks of dried blood.

“That must be from the kidnapper,” Marcus said, mouth twisting with revulsion.

Temos shuddered at the reminder of how close he’d been to being killed and swiftly pulled off the offending garment, tossing it aside with the comment, “I’ll have to burn that.”

Marcus glanced at his friend’s lean body, naked now except for a skimpy thong confining his genitals and the wrapping around his injured foot. The dark-haired man busied himself calling for a tub of warm water, trying not to show his arousal at the enticing vision. With every day, Temos seemed to grow more beautiful, or so it seemed to Marcus. Or, was it just now that Marcus was going to lose him to another man, he was noticing the younger man more?

Marcus sighed, he knew the answer to that. He had loved the long-haired youth from the second day they’d met, and was convinced that the feelings he had for Temos would never fade, no matter what happened to either of them.

Decius raised the jug of fiery wine to his mouth, drinking another deep draught. The more he drank the more he became convinced that Hadrian could not be allowed to have Temos all to himself. If anyone was meant to have the handsome scout it should be himself, after all he had saved Temos’ life.

A frown crossed the sub-commander’s craggy features. Deep within his befuddled mind he vaguely remembered something he’d once heard. Something to do with the Pathfinder’s tribal customs? Some kind of ritual...he shook his head. He tried to think straight. This was very important to him.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The morning was two hours old when Hadrian returned from his 'visit' to the tribal camp of the Chief who’d instigated the kidnapping attempt.

It had started out as a diplomatic trip to persuade the tribes to stay within the jurisdiction of the Army of the Emperor, but having met up with the soldiers pursuing the escaped kidnapper, Hadrian had been forced to play a heavy hand. He had captured the fleeing tribesman, who’d run straight into his scouts, and returned with his captive to the Chief.

Attempting to kidnap a hostage of the Emperor was a very serious crime, Hadrian had stated gravely and could only be redeemed by the Chief’s continuing alliance to the Empire. To this end Hadrian would take as hostage Abdullah’s eldest son, who would be well-treated in accordance with the law of the Empire, but would not be returned to his father until the Army moved on.

Abdullah had blustered that it was none of his doing, but seeing the stern expression on the Commander’s handsome face and knowing he was cornered, had reluctantly backed-down and informed Hadrian that he loved his son and would do nothing further to risk his life.

The Commander had accepted his word, and after many flowery speeches of cooperation, had left the Chief to think of the consequences should he ever attempt to cross the representative of the Emperor again.

Taking his men and hostage, Hadrian had cheerfully set out for his own camp, looking forward to being able to relax and plan his forthcoming bonding ceremony with his beautiful barbarian soul mate.

The men sent by Decius had assured him that Temos was fine, he might have a headache, but he wasn’t injured, thanks to the sub-commander, and Hadrian made a mental note to thank Decius properly when he had the opportunity.

In this mood halfway between excitement and frustration, Hadrian returned to his small army, looking forward to checking personally on Temos’ health and hopeful that he could spend some more time with his scout.

As he made his way to his own quarters, however, Bar-cus had barely enough time to relieve him of his sword belt and cloak, when the tall figure of Marcus appeared outside asking for an immediate audience with the commander.

Puzzled and not a little alarmed, Hadrian granted his wish and the tall dark-haired man was soon standing before him.

Without even waiting for the servant to leave, Marcus started to tell Hadrian of the events that had occurred, his voice rough with anger and pain.

By the time Marcus had finished helping Temos to bathe and change into a fresh garment and almost bully the younger man into having his injured foot checked by the surgeon, two hours had passed. He was trying to tame the younger man’s long, honey-gold mane into some sort of order, when Decius had returned to the tent. He’d been drinking the rough local wine steadily for the last few hours, and on top of what he’d had during the day, was clearly drunk, and stood swaying belligerently before the two young men seated on the couch.

Marcus had a tortoiseshell comb in one hand as he combed Temos’ hair and Decius frowned and stepping forward grabbed the comb out of his hand.

Marcus's mouth dropped open in astonishment, then tightened in anger and he’d risen to his feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Claiming my rights,” declared Decius.

“Rights? What rights are you talking about?” Marcus demanded, his dark eyes flashing with anger.

Decius ignored him and swayed up closer to the couch where Temos was sitting and patted his head clumsily. “I’ll do that for you now...”

Temos lifted the other’s hand and slid away from the man looming over him. “I don’t want you to do anything for me, sub-commander. I am quite capable of combing my own hair.”

Decius frowned: “Why’d you let him do it then?”

Temos’ lifted an eyebrow disdainfully. “Because I chose to allow it. He is my friend” he emphasised.

"Oh, another friend,” sneered Decius. “Like the Commander. He a friend also?”

Temos’ eyes turned as cold as the emeralds they resembled. “That is my concern, sub-commander Decius, and none of yours.”

Decius glared, then abruptly giggled. “Ah, but you see, Temos my little scout, it is my concern. From tonight onwards, everything you do is my concern.”

Marcus stepped forward. There had never been any love lost between the older soldier and himself. “You are drunk Decius. You’d better go back to your quarters and sober up before Commander Hadrian returns, or you'll end up as chief of the dung-heap.”

Decius snarled around at the dark-haired scout. “You keep your mouth shut, Marcus. This has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me, when you come in here, drunk and spouting nonsense.”

Decius staggered as he spun round and almost fell, before catching his balance on one of the supporting tent poles. “Not nonsense,” he spluttered. “Ask Temos, he’ll tell you.”

“Tell him what?” asked Temos, his earlier surprised distaste turning to real anger now.

“That...that...you belong to me now,” said Decius.

“Belong....?” Temos was almost struck dumb by this bald announcement “I don’t understand Decius. I do not belong to anyone," he stated emphatically.

“Yes,” insisted Decius, swaying closer, “You do now....by your own warrior code...”

Temos’ expression darkened with rage. “What do you know of my warrior code?” he spat out.

Decius laid a finger alongside his nose, and nodded sagely. “I know.” He went on hurriedly. “Just after you were hired to scout for Hadrian, I talked to the Chieftain of the Lower Hill Tribe, he was a bit drunk and told me a little of what they knew about your background.”

“You spied on him,” cried Marcus angrily.

“No...no... I was just listening to an old man ramble,” Decius said with some asperity.

“What did this old man tell you?” asked Temos softly, his eyes glinting dangerously, he didn’t like where this conversation was heading.

“He told me that you were one of the last of your tribe ...how your family had been killed...”

Decius hesitated, even in his drunken state he couldn’t fail to see the pain which filled Temos' eyes.

Marcus made a move towards the older officer, intent on shutting him up, but Decius threw up a hand. “I'm sorry Temos, I have no wish to hurt you or bring up bad times...”

“Huh!” snorted Marcus. “Well, you're not doing very well.”

“If you'd just shut that big mouth of yours Marcus, maybe I can finish what I want to say...what I have to say,” Decius snarled, now sounding not so drunk.

“Which is?” inquired Temos, trying to push unpleasant memories aside.

Decius tried to stand without the support of the pole he was still clinging too, but had to hold on. “According to your own warrior code Temos, the person who saves another’s life at the risk to his own, is that person's master.”

Temos paled and he stared with growing horror at the triumphant visage of the battle hard soldier.

“ ..so, your life belongs to me now...and no-one else” finished Decius.

“No,” whispered Temos, then getting to his unsteady feet, blazed at the sub-commander. “NO! My life is my own to do with as I please, with whom I please.”

Decius stared at him, his gray eyes alive with triumph and desire and smiled. “What about the Code?” he asked smugly.

The two younger men were silent, and Decius went on: “I heard you talking about bonding with the Commander...” he gave a short laugh. “You can forget that. You need my permission now, and I’ll never give it. Hadrian will never have you....”

Temos gave a scream of rage and launched himself bodily at his tormentor, pulling a knife from his weapon belt beside the couch.

Marcus was startled by the violence of his friend’s rage, he’d seen Temos angry in the past, but never like this. He seemed out of control.

Temos was unable to carry through his obvious intention as his injured foot collapsed under him and he fell awkwardly to the floor of the tent.

Marcus and Decius both went to help him up, but Marcus pushed the older man aside, putting a hand on his own knife.

Decius stumbled back from the hard shove, then recovered his balance and spoke sneeringly. “I always suspected that Barbarians had no honour ...this seems to prove it.”

Temos paused in his attempt to get at Decius, he held the honour of his tribe in great respect, and would never knowingly betray it.

He slumped back onto his couch, white-faced and trembling, his eyes looking blankly into space, as though he stood on the brink of a fearful void.

Decius took a step forward but found Marcus in his path. Without another word, the younger man pushed and managed to get the still half-drunken officer outside the tent.

“Stay out, you’ve done enough damage...” he threatened coldly.

Decius wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and decided to let the matter rest for the moment. He knew he held a winning hand and he would have patience to wait for his prize.

Marcus finished speaking and looked up into the arctic blue eyes of his commander.

“I tried to talk to Temos, tell him he couldn’t allow a bastard like Decius to ruin his life,” then paused. “He won't listen to me, sir. I love him too, and although I cannot truly say that I am happy with this bonding ceremony, I want Temos to be happy and have his heart's desire.”

He stood tall and unafraid of the man before him, someone that literally held his life and the rest of the camp in his hands, as he added. “You, sir, are that heart’s desire, so I came to ask you to help my friend.” He gestured helplessly with one hand, “He won't even discuss it now.”

Hadrian had listened with growing rage and horror to the tale Marcus had to tell, and his face was livid with the burning desire to see Decius roast in the pits of Hades.

“Ask Temos to report here to me, at once,” he ordered.

“Yes, Commander.” Marcus saluted and left.

Bar-cus had heard the tale and eyed his master thoughtfully. He knew most of Hadrian's moods in the time they’d been together and he deemed it wise not to utter a word. Instead he went to get a flask of wine and a fresh towel to freshen Hadrian’s dusty appearance.

It was a good thirty minutes later and Hadrian was beginning to think his orders were not going to be obeyed. In that time, he’d allowed himself to freshen up, change his dusty clothes for clean ones and drank a goblet of wine.

Just as he was on the point of ordering Bar-cus to go and get the Pathfinder, Temos and Marcus entered his quarters.

Hadrian stared hard at his intended mate. Temos was pale and appeared calm, a strange cold calmness, his eyes carefully emptied of all feeling and expression.

He refused to sit down, and after one quick glance upward from under his lashes, he stood leaning on Marcus’ shoulder, his gaze studying the pattern of the luxurious carpet which covered the sandy ground.

Hadrian nodded at Marcus to leave, but when that soldier tried to disentangle himself, Temos held on all the harder, until with an exasperated sigh, Hadrian lost his temper.

“I asked you to sit down, Temos, I want to talk to you. Marcus, will you wait outside please.”

The taller man carefully helped Temos to a seat on the couch and went outside, going no further than the outer tent however, where he paced restlessly.

Hadrian drew a deep breath, regaining his composure and sat down beside the slight figure. He tried to take Temos' hand, but the youth drew back, his eyes still studying the floor.

“Temos, my love, what is wrong? Why won’t you talk to me, what have I done?”

The older man’s anguished cry seemed to rouse Temos from his study and he lifted his eyes to meet Hadrian's concerned expression.

The Commander drew a quick breath, Temos’ eyes were huge, dark with pain and they cut Hadrian to the heart.

“You haven't done anything wrong, Commander,” the tone was dull and quiet. “But I cannot be bonded with you, ever.” His voice broke a little on the last word, then his golden head lifted proudly. “So I beg to be released from my promise.”

There was a moment’s silence as Hadrian digested this bit of unwelcome news, then Temos made a slight movement to get up. “As there is nothing left to say, I....”

Hadrian caught him by the arm and pulled him back down beside him. “What do you mean, there's nothing more to say? There is plenty to say.”

Temos shook his head sadly, unable to speak.

“Talk to me Temos. Tell me what can be done. Why can’t you be bonded with me? Have you changed your mind, you...” he stopped as a dreadful thought entered his mind. “You don’t love me?” His voice sank to a whisper of despair.

Temos looked him in the eye. “That is not the case. I’m afraid that you could not love me, my commander,” he breathed softly. “You could not love a man without honour.”

Hadrian was puzzled. “What do you mean, Temos? You are the most honourable man I know. I can't stop loving you.”

“I’m afraid you must, or it will make things worse, for us both.” Temos' voice was determined.

“Why?” demanded Hadrian. “Why must I stop loving you, I don’t understand.”

Temos took a deep breath, this was painful, but he had to settle the matter now, before he lost his nerve completely.

“I cannot bond with you without Decius’ permission, and he will never give it. He says...” his voice faltered, “he says, I belong to him.”

His voice broke on the last words and he dropped his head, not wanting to let Hadrian see his despair.

Hadrian's arms reached out pulling the smaller body on to his lap, cradling Temos gently as he felt the broad shoulders shake with suppressed emotion,

“Ah Temos, Temos,” he whispered, lips brushing the silky hair beneath his chin. “What is this Code that binds one free man to another? It cannot spoil our happiness, I won’t allow it.” His voice was adamant.

Temos sighed wearily against the broad chest, his voice muffled but the words clear enough.

“It goes back to our ancient laws Hadrian. It is all shrouded in mysticism, but is interpreted in this way, that when a life is saved by another, that life belongs to the warrior who has risked his own and becomes, literally, the rescued one’s master. Unless the warrior releases the man, women or child by his own choice, he is the master to the end of both their existence.”

Hadrian’s grasp tightened possessively as he felt the shudders of exhaustion wracking the slender body, one hand almost absently stroking the heavy silken hair.

To him, the solution was obvious. “Well, I’m not going to lose you to some ancient symbolism...” he paused, “unless you tell me that you want to stay with Decius, of your own free will.” He lifted the younger man's firm chin, meeting hazy green eyes swimming in unshed tears, “and that you don’t love me.”

Temos met the blue gaze squarely, no hint of evasion in his open expression. “I do NOT want to stay with Decius, freely or otherwise. I want to belong and be loved by only one person in this whole world,” he wrapped his arms around Hadrian's waist, burrowing into his tunic, “and that person is holding me now.”

Hearing the renewed declaration of the younger man's love for him strengthened Hadrian's resolve even further.

“Right then. The way is clear. I assume that there is a rule somewhere that allows a challenge to be made?” He raised a dark eyebrow questioningly.

Temos frowned. “I'm not sure. I’ve never heard of a challenge being made. The rescued person cannot make the challenge, or I would have done it already,” he added, with a slight smile, which went straight to Hadrian's heart.

“Then I will challenge Decius,” declared Hadrian. “Then will you stay with me?” he teased.

The hazy green eyes lit up and glowed at those words, then a moment later clouded again.

“No.” He tried to draw back but the strong arms refused to release him. “Please Hadrian, I cannot have you risking your life for me that way.”

“Oh!” Hadrian was still smiling. “You think I’m not as good as Decius at dueling?”

“No.” Temos' voice was stubborn as he refused to be sidetracked. “Because if something happened, some sort of accident and you got hurt....or.. or killed,” his voice dropped to a whisper. “Then I would cease to live too.”

Hadrian felt a surge of emotion as he realised Temos meant every word. He dropped his bantering and hugged the forlorn figure.

"I won’t get hurt, or killed," he promised firmly. "If Decius will listen to reason, that's fine. If not, he will have to fight."

“No!” cried Temos harshly. “No, you cannot. Think of your position here, Commander. The General will not be pleased to have one of his senior commanders brawling over a...a..."

“Lover is the word you’re seeking Temos.” Hadrian said quietly, knowing what the scout was trying to do. “I don't care what the General may think, or do. This is my life, and you, my only and last love.” He brushed a wisp of hair from Temos' brow, and said quietly. “So if I have to fight the whole Empire to have you with me, I will. I love you, Temos. And neither the General, Decius or anyone else can keep us apart.”

Temos sighed, his eyes shining like stars at this declaration of Hadrian's commitment. He knew his commander meant every word, and those words and the emotion that went with them made him feel warm and loved and wanted. His heart almost bursting with happiness he allowed himself to believe that all would be as Hadrian promised.

Then abruptly, he came down to earth and knew he couldn't accept such a sacrifice. He sat up slowly, pushing Hadrian back a little so that he could look him straight in the eye.

"No," he said, his voice flat and hard. "I can't allow you to do that."

Hadrian stared at him. That tone was the voice of a warrior and leader of men in his own right, and couldn't be brushed off lightly.

Before he could speak however, Marcus rushed unbidden into the chamber. Having heard the end of the discussion, he'd come to the same decision as Temos, and for much the same reasons.

“You cannot fight him, Commander," he said briskly, his heart going out to the couple on the couch, their arms entwined tightly round one another. "... but I can. Decius is nearer my rank and everyone knows of the feud between us. It will seem natural, and I can defeat him, I know I can.” His brown eyes flashing fire Marcus declared his interest in this tangled web of intrigue.

Temos shook his head. “I can't allow that either, Marcus. You are my oldest and dearest friend. I could never be happy with your death on my conscience.” Then as Marcus looked hurt, added hurriedly, “that is, of course, if you happened to lose.”

Hadrian cocked an eyebrow at Marcus. “Would you give your permission for the bonding, if Temos became yours?” he asked softly.

Marcus hesitated, then stood taller as he replied levelly. “Yes sir, I would. Although I love Temos more than I can ever say, he wouldn’t be happy without you, that I know.”

Temos was touched by what he knew would be a big sacrifice for Marcus and raised his hand. Marcus clasped it firmly and they exchanged a long look that held the friendship of years within it.

Hadrian felt a surge of jealousy, realising that the two younger men shared a history he could never be part of, then shook himself mentally. Marcus had the memories, but he would soon have Temos and all the future before them.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Determined to get the matter settled as soon as possible, Hadrian arranged for Temos and Marcus to be in his quarters later that evening, he would also summon Decius, then they would attempt to change his mind.

Hadrian sounded confident, but privately vowed that if the sub-commander would not give up his ridiculous, yet no doubt honest, intention, he would challenge him, no matter what the General might say, or Temos. The Commander too, had his honour and he could not, would not, allow Marcus to fight for Temos. The young man should have the right and freedom to choose for himself, not have to ask anyone, not even Hadrian, for permission.

He was worried about Temos, when the two younger men had left his presence, the scout had been very quiet, almost docile, if such a word could be used to describe such a volatile youngster. So the commander hoped he could bring about a permanent conclusion.

Of one thing he was absolutely certain, Temos would not be forced into a relationship with a man he didn't want.

At the appointed time, the four participants in the drama were assembled in Commander Hadrian's inner quarters, with Bar-cus on guard outside.

Besides not wanting the rest of the camp to know about Temos' dilemma, he had no intention of letting this feud spread any further among the men. They would be bound to take sides, and being far from home, a mutiny was the very last thing anyone needed.

Glancing at his beloved, he saw that Temos was pale but steady. He was sitting on a cushioned footstool beside Hadrian's chair to rest his injured foot, while the other two men stood in front of their commander, a few feet apart, anger sparking invisibly between them.

They were all in military attire, even Temos was armed and dressed in his leather kilt and weapon belts, the two older men in their Empire uniforms while Marcus was in his usual black outfit.

Hadrian began by putting the important question to Decius. “By saving Temos' life from the raiding tribesmen, you now claim that life belongs to you? Is that correct?”

“I do, sir,” Decius was quite sober now and answered firmly. “By the Warrior Code...”

“Yes,” Hadrian said abruptly. “I think we are all well aware of the ancient Code. Do you intend to hold this young man to that Code, even if it is against his own wishes?”

Without glancing at Temos, Decius nodded. “I do. He will change his mind when we are together.”

The young scout made an abrupt movement, then was still, his protest unuttered, while Marcus clenched his fists tightly at the insolent arrogance in those words.

Hadrian had to call on all his patience and diplomacy to keep his hands off the other man. For in a strange way he could understand Decius' attitude, after all they were all fighting for the same thing: Temos' love.

Keeping his tone even, he persisted with his questions, trying to get the older officer to see his error.

“I think you are aware of Temos’ own wishes in this matter Sub-Commander, and yet you still persist in holding him to this...this.. very ancient custom?”

Decius nodded stubbornly. “Yes. The custom is still valid and Temos has agreed to abide by it's rule.” He flashed a quick glance at the seated 'bone-of-contention'.

Hadrian tried again. “You know of course, that Pathfinder Temos is the only living member of his Tribe, and as there is no one left to enforce this ancient custom, he needn’t abide by an outdated rule.”

Decius gave a grim smile. “I know, sir. But you cannot know Temos as well as you think you do, if you think he will not honour his tribal customs whether they can be enforced or not.”

Hadrian flushed, but held on to his temper. Decius was getting more insolent by the minute, and seemed to think he was winning, but Hadrian had more to say.

“I do know that Sub-commander. That is why it is beyond my understanding that you, who have lived and fought beside this young man for many moons, can actually contemplate forcing him into a relationship he doesn't want.” He paused to allow his words to sink in, then added. “Knowing, as you have just pointed out, that his honour will not allow him to compromise his warrior's code.”

That obviously got through Decius' defensive shield as he flushed scarlet, but he remained silent.

Marcus was unable to keep quiet any longer. “You are the most miserable of men, Decius. You know he will never, ever, come freely to you. So this is your spiteful, greedy, way of taking something you would never have been given.”

Decius turned on the younger man, gray eyes colder than ice. “And you, Marcus,” he sneered. “Can you honestly say you’ve never wanted to...” He paused, knowing if he said the word that sprang to his mind, he would be unable to avoid a fight. He didn’t want to fight anyone now. If only he could keep his temper and resolve, everything he’d ever wanted would fall into his hands. “you'd be willing to let another man have your heart's desire," he finished.

Marcus leaned forward. “That's the difference between us,” he hissed. “I want Temos to have what he wants, to be happy with the one he loves. That will suffice for me.” Taking a step forward he put a hand on his sword hilt. “Now that I see you will not listen to reason, I challenge you, Decius, by that same code you insist on enforcing. I challenge you to a trial by combat.”

Hadrian was on his feet at once. “No!” his voice cracked like a whip, making the two antagonists turn in surprise.

“Marcus. I forbid you to fight this man.” He was between them now, forcing them apart.

The darker man opened his mouth to protest, while Decius allowed a slight smile to escape his thin lips. This faded rapidly as Hadrian turned to him.

“I cannot allow another to fight my battles," he said silkily. “and if you still won’t listen to reason..?” He cocked an enquiring eyebrow in a last attempt to settle things without shedding blood.

When Decius still shook a stubborn head, Hadrian sighed, “Then as Marcus said, if you won’t listen to reason, by the code of conduct to which you insist on adhering, I challenge you - to a trial by combat.” He smiled slightly at using the same words as the dark-haired scout.

Decius put a hand on his sword and started to answer, his face tightening, but not giving way in the slightest. He had been supremely confident in winning against the less experienced Marcus, but Hadrian was another matter entirely. The Commander was a first-class swordsman and had won many a duel, both at the frontier and back home in Omeria, yet Decius would not give up his dream of having the blond Barbarian at his side.

He had been jealous of Hadrian's success as a military commander, but that was nothing to the rage which possessed him when he thought of the prize he wanted in Hadrian's embrace.

Before he could speak to accept the challenge however, another voice broke the tense atmosphere. Temos spoke from his sitting position.

“Wait!” his voice cracked between them, “I still have something to say in this matter, before you all decide, between you, what is to happen to me,” he added caustically, his tone cold.

Hadrian had to smile inwardly, that was more like the Temos he’d come to know. The boy had been quiet far too long. In a few moments, however, he didn't feel like smiling ever again.

Temos stood up, managing not to stumble, and walked with only a slight trace of a limp, across to stand in front of Decius. Looking up slightly, as the older man was half a head taller, he said quietly.

“Decius, I want to be very clear on this matter. Even knowing that I love another, you still insist on holding me to the Warrior Code of owning the life you undoubtedly saved?”

There was a long silence, all three older men realised that it was something of a rarity for Temos to declare his love so openly before others.

Then Decius nodded faintly, his gray eyes staring mesmerised into the huge green depths. “You will learn to love me, Temos,” he said soothingly, knowing the temper of the other, “I know you will. I can give you everything he can..." flashing a jealous-filled look at the commander. “You will learn to accept and love.”

He stopped as Temos shook his head sadly, his braided hair bouncing on his shoulders.

“You can never give me what the Commander already has Decius. Love, tenderness, consideration, and respect, all that and more, more than I deserve, even his life.” He paused, his quiet voice holding the others attention. "That, I cannot accept.”

He turned and smiled at Hadrian, a smile so full of love, concern and pride, that Hadrian's heart melted within him and he took a small step forward, his hand reaching out.

Temos touched it gently, then drew back and turned once more to Decius.

“Do you understand now, Decius? Understand why I will never, ever, be able to accept second-best. I have never given my heart, or my body, to any man before, and I can never be forced to do so.”

He turned to Marcus. “Marcus, I love you as a friend and brother, you've been my confidante, my tower to lean on when I needed support. I am aware of your love and concern, and I cannot accept your life either.”

Marcus had tears in his eyes, and hoped he could prevent them falling.

Temos after another loving glance at his would-be lover and best friend, turned back to the man who was about to ruin his life.

The sub-commander’s face was pale, and the naked pain in his eyes, almost made even his two rivals feel sorry for him.

Temos reached out a hand and gently touched him on the shoulder. “You too, Decius, have been a friend. One who has shared bread and wine, a fellow warrior who has fought by my side, without concern for your own safety on many occasions.” He paused again as Decius tried to clear his throat. “I cannot challenge you, nor do I want your life, but I cannot stay with you on your terms. I ask you once more. Release me, please, from this bargain.”

Decius hesitated a long time, then slowly shook his head. “I can not,” he breathed brokenly.

“Even part of you will be enough for me. It won't be bad for you, I promise.”

Temos drew back, his face growing ashen, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

He stepped one pace back, and with a quick movement drew his knife from his crossed weapon belts and held the glittering point to his own chest, between the two pieces of leather.

Marcus gave a strangled cry and moved forward at the same time as Hadrian cried, “Temos, no!”

They were stopped by a fierce upward flick of the dark-lashed eyes.

Decius had taken a step forward too, then halted. “He won't do it,” he said calmly.

Temos looked him steadily in the eye and said. “I cannot allow any other man to risk his life for me, so the solution is obvious. If you will not release me from this custom, I will have to die, quickly and cleanly, instead of slowly every day, away from him I love with all my being.”

His voice was quite calm, his eyes sparkling with a cold green fire.

Decius started to speak, then cleared his throat. “I don't believe you will do this terrible thing Temos, you have too much love of life within you. You are only trying to frighten me.”

His eyes pleaded with Temos to say that this was so, but Temos shook his head. Reaching out for Decius’ hand, still keeping the sharp point of the knife to his chest, he placed the other's slightly trembling hand on top of his own.

Smiling gently, he said in a quiet whisper. “I do mean it, Decius. I cannot live with you, or without Hadrian. So release me, or kill me. You now have your wish, responsibility for my life.”

The tableau seemed frozen in time.

Hadrian resplendent in his red tunic, his muscular figure frozen in mid-step, one hand raised pleadingly towards the Pathfinder.

Marcus, equally as stunned, nearer to the other two men, but unable to move for fear of that terribly sharp blade so near his love's heart.

Decius, his hand clasped unwillingly on the hilt of the knife, and a dawning understanding and belief that this was no empty threat, showing on his horrified face.

Temos, standing straight and proud, his head held high, the lamplight gleaming on the trapped gold of his braided hair. His slender figure seemed almost relaxed, but the handsome face was cold and expressionless, only the glittering energy in the wide green eyes, marking his inner turmoil for the others to see.

His hand was quite steady on the carved hilt, and he raised his other hand, clasping it firmly over Decius', refusing to allow the older man to draw away.

Decius shook his head. “No, Temos,” he pleaded, “I won't do it. I cannot kill you. Don’t you understand, I love you.”

Temos nodded placidly. “You may think you do, Decius, but what you are forcing me to do, isn't love. It's a desire to own me, or you couldn't even consider doing this to us all.”

He paused. “If you can't, or won't, thrust this knife into my heart, I will have to do it.”

He turned his head slightly, glancing first at Marcus, giving him a faint smile, then at Hadrian. His smile faded at the look of sheer horror on his commander's face, and for a second his resolve faltered. “Forgive me, Hadrian, there isn't any other way,” he whispered.

The taller man shook his head wordlessly, begging him to stop with desperate blue eyes.

As he turned back to Decius, Temos nodded slightly, “Farewell, may the Gods forgive you.”

His hand tightened on the knife hilt and Decius saw with horror the sharp point split the golden skin over his left breast, and knew without a shadow of doubt, the young man meant every word.

Rather than live without Hadrian, he meant to push that cold metal into his warm golden flesh, spilling his heart's blood on the carpeted floor.

“No!” he cried, his hand tightening around the hilt, trying to stop the knife from doing any more damage. “No, Temos. Please don’t...” he tried to wrest the blade away, but Temos clung on grimly, his eyes turning black with despair, as unseen by Hadrian and Marcus, the rich, red ribbon of his blood spread down his naked chest.

“All right, Temos, listen to me.” Hadrian's voice was a cracked whisper. “There's no need for this, we will find another way. There must be someone who can lift this... this...code...” he almost spat out the word.

Marcus swallowed nervously. “Listen to him, Temos, there has to be someone.”

Their voices died away, heard but not really understood by the two men locked in a terrible silent struggle, both figures straining for the upper hand, as Temos struggled to end his torment, and Decius to prevent his own.

The struggle was deadlocked as Decius managed to prevent the knife doing any further damage, while Temos clung on grimly. He had thought long and deep on this action and having made his peace with his gods, was now determined to go through with his decision, as the only other option was too terrible to contemplate.

Despite Decius’ declaration of his love, Temos despised the other man for forcing him to serve out the remainder of his life being slave to Decius’ master. He would’ve had a hard time being Hadrian’s slave, and he would’ve done anything for the commander, but this was impossible.

He could’ve allowed Hadrian, or Marcus, to fight for his liberty, but that went against all he’d been taught. He’d always fought his own battles, and couldn’t stop now, with this most important one.

Hadrian and Marcus were standing behind the struggling pair and so far were unaware that blood was spilling done the youngster’s bare torso, and before they realised and brought their added strength to bear, Temos had to finish what he’d started.

Then through the roaring in his head, he heard Decius' frantic words: “Temos, listen to me. I will release you, I promise. Please don’t do this.”

Temos paused, still trying to hang on to the hilt of the knife, but his hand was wet with his own blood and his weakened grasp was no match for the sub-commander’s strength and the weapon was wrenched free and tossed to one side, while his wrists were grasped in the older man's rough hands.

“I don't want your death,” Decius said, “I wanted your life to be with me. But I will release you.”

Temos couldn't believe him, and growled, “Say it...say it aloud!”

Decius stared into the blazing eyes, and knew that if he wanted them both to live, he would have to renounce his claim, for if Temos died here, he would follow him on the point of Hadrian’s sword. There would be no escape for either of them.

Knowing he couldn’t win this battle, he turned to the others. “Commander Hadrian, Scout Marcus, witness this. I renounce my claim on the life of Temos. He is free from any commitment previously agreed.”

Looking once more down at the youngster, he saw with some relief the wild light fading from the green eyes. He held onto Temos for another long moment, until Hadrian stepped forward, his arms going out around the slender body.

The Commander’s supporting hands slipped in the blood on Temos’ chest and he looked down in horror at the wound, then glared at Decius over the blond head into his furious gray eyes.

The rivals exchanged a long, unforgiving look, then Decius stepped back, leaving Hadrian to support his love.

Temos stood for another moment feeling the strong arms supporting him, the beloved voice whispering in his ear, and the relief was so great, a great void of darkness opened up under his feet, and he fell into it.

Hadrian lifted the fainting youth into his arms and carried him quickly to the couch, calling for water and something to stem the flow of blood, as he quickly freed Temos of his weapon belts.

Marcus hurriedly picked up Hadrian’s hand towel and the nearest fluid, which was the wine flagon, and brought them across to the couch, seeing for the first time the state of his friend.

While Hadrian pressed the towel against the wound, Marcus bathed the forehead of the unconscious man, and glared at Decius, “You bastard, this is all your doing.”

“No time for that now, fetch the surgeon, quickly Marcus,” snapped Hadrian worried for Temos, he was so still.

While Marcus ran on his errand, Hadrian began to chafe Temos’ limp arms, then rubbed the long legs with a blanket, trying to instill some warmth into him.

He looked up at Decius, who was standing pale and straight against the tent wall.

“Well, sub-commander, you finally did the right thing,” he said abruptly. “What possessed you to try to invoke such an ancient custom?”

Decius shrugged. “I saved his life, and I wanted him,” he said levelly, “It seemed like an excellent idea.” He paused, “I didn't count on his strength of purpose.” He shook his head.

“Yes, he does have a mind of his own. I would’ve thought you’d know that.” Hadrian said angrily, still simmering with the rage he’d been unable to unleash.

“Yes, I should have,” murmured the other man huskily, then cleared his throat. “I’d better leave, I suppose.”

“Yes, I think you’d better,” snapped Hadrian.

Decius moved to the doorway, then hesitated. “I’d like to know when he recovers,” he said simply.

Hadrian hesitated, he still wanted to throttle the man who’d caused him so much anxiety, but then he nodded. “Yes, you'll be informed.”

Marcus was soon back with the surgeon, who frowned as he saw the bloodstained towel and the knife still lying on the floor.

“What has happened, sir?” he asked, going straight to his patient.

“An accident,” said Hadrian smoothly.

The surgeon raised an eyebrow questioningly, but Hadrian forestalled any more questions by asking. “How serious is the wound?”

The surgeon lifted the padding and checked Temos thoroughly, replacing the makeshift bandage with clean cloths from his satchel.

“Well, the wound is clean and should heal. Luckily, although fairly deep it is not life-threatening.” He checked Temos’ pulse and bent over to listen to him breathing. “I think he should recover soon. He is young and fit, that is a good thing.”

“Is there anything we can do?” asked Hadrian trying to keep the anxiety out of his voice.

The surgeon shrugged. “Not much. Just keep him warm, and the wound clean.”

He covered Temos with a light blanket and handed Hadrian a small vial. “When he wakes up, give him this. It should help him regain some of the lost blood.”

Hadrian took the small leather bottle and nodded, and the surgeon took his leave, curiosity burning in him, but wise enough not to ask questions of the obviously anxious commander.

There followed long, anxiety-filled minutes as the two men waited for Temos to come round.

Hadrian sat by the couch, occasionally tucking in the blanket, although Temos didn't move, just wanting to touch and reassure himself that his love was alive.

Marcus sat by the table, playing idly with a couple of dice, although he didn't seem to realise what he was doing.

They waited and waited, until at last their vigilance was rewarded by the faint flicker of the dark, luxurious lashes which shaded Temos' emerald-green eyes.

Hadrian was the first to notice the faint movement and caught his breath, alerting Marcus to Temos' returning consciousness.

The feathery curtain of lashes lifted and Temos blinked dazedly up at the Commander's anxious face, he stared for a moment, then smiled. The brilliance of that smile made Hadrian feel weak and he closed his eyes thankfully, taking Temos' hand in his own.

Temos' eyes next went to Marcus, who was hovering behind the commander's broad shoulder. “Marcus?”

Marcus knelt by the couch, taking Temos’ hand in his, “Yes, I'm here, everything is all right now.” His voice was choked with emotion, and Temos frowned slightly.

Looking back at Hadrian, seeing the aftermath of his emotional fear in the vivid blue eyes, he suddenly remembered what had occurred. The faint colour left his face once more, but before he could voice his anxieties, Hadrian hushed him.

“It's all right, Temos. Everything has been sorted out, you are free of Decius.”

Temos was silent, absorbing the knowledge that all was really well with his world again and could think once more of a future with Hadrian.

As he tried to rise he caught his breath at the sudden pain in his chest and looked down curiously at the bandage round his chest.

“What...what...” he paused then flushed. “Did I do this?” he asked.

Marcus still kneeling beside the couch nodded. “Yes, you did. You reckless idiot. You almost gave me a seizure.” The flippant words didn’t match the fear in his eyes and Temos nodded understandingly.

“I’m sorry Marcus,” he apologised faintly.

Marcus snorted. “You should be,” then grinned and lent over to kiss his friend on the brow. “I’m just glad you didn’t succeed,” he whispered.

Marcus glanced up at Hadrian realising that the older man wanted to be alone with his chosen mate and got slowly to his feet. He brushed his hand gently over the tousled gold hair. “Goodnight Temos, I'll see you tomorrow.”

Temos smiled back, his hand clinging for a moment to Marcus's firm shoulder. “Goodnight my dear, friend.”

Marcus stood back, and looked at Hadrian. “Goodnight sir...and...and...”

Hadrian clasped his shoulder, he knew it must be very difficult for the other man to leave him in total command. "Goodnight Marcus. Don't worry, I will take good care of him."

He paused, then looking shrewdly at the younger officer, added. “Marcus, don’t go and see Decius. Let things settle down for the moment.”

Marcus looked stubborn, it had been in his mind to pay Decius a short visit.

Hadrian's grip tightened. “For Temos’ sake, please?”

Marcus sighed, then nodded, his muscles relaxing slightly. "Yes, sir," he acknowledged, then turned to lift a hand in his friend's direction. Temos winked at him cheekily, and that one gesture lifted Marcus' spirits more than he would ever have thought, and he was smiling as he left the lamp lit tent.

Hadrian turned then to the figure on the couch, watching tenderly as Temos' expression changed, becoming warm and a little shy, flushing slightly at the naked look of love in his Commander's sapphire-blue eyes.

Hadrian sat down on the couch, then careful of the wound, caught Temos to him in a sudden, almost desperate hug and buried his mouth in the heavy gold hair, his voice muffled as he sighed, “Temos. Temos...”

Suddenly loosening his grip, he held Temos by the shoulders, slightly away from him so he could look down into the hazy eyes. "Don't you ever, ever ..." he started to shake him, then stopped and tightened his grip instead, “do that to me again. I thought, I thought I’d lost you forever.”

He dragged the smaller man to him again, his fierce embrace leaving Temos breathless and very conscious of his self-inflicted wound, but under no illusion of how much he meant to this proud leader of men and regretted he’d caused him so much pain.

“I'm sorry,” he said in a small whisper, “I’m sorry...”

Hadrian looked at him again, seeing the tears forming in the hazy green depths. "You little devil. I thought you were going to...to..."

“I was,” confessed Temos faintly. “I couldn't think of any way out, and I couldn't go on living in the same world as you, but not being able to come to you.” he shivered suddenly. “It seemed the best way out, at least for me.”

“But not for me, or Marcus, or even for Decius,” said Hadrian firmly, still half angry and wanting to impress on his firey-tempered lover the seriousness of his actions on all of them.

“I know that now,” said Temos contritely, "and I am sorry." There was a fairly long pause, then he asked quietly. "Are you very disappointed in me, Hadrian? Do you still love me?" He was terribly afraid that he had spoiled everything between them.

Hadrian looked down, catching the fear shadowing those bright eyes. He stroked a thumb gently over Temos' quivering lips before bending his head and kissing them softly, sweetly, answering without words.

Temos sighed, his mouth opening under the soft caress, wanting more.

Hadrian obliged, his arms cradling the lithe figure closer into his body, and slowly let himself down on the couch, bringing Temos with him until they were lying side by side, arms tight around each other. Parted lips met, kissed and nibbled, as their tongues greedily tasted each other.

For the first time since Hadrian had seen Temos, his body didn't ache to take the delights offered in that slender form. He felt too relieved, too anxious to hold onto this fragile moment, of realising they were both alive, and loved desperately enough to die, each for the other.

So he just held Temos tightly, feeling the scout’s heart beating strongly against his chest, the warm lips, moving under his own, sometimes teasing, now demanding, then sweetly surrendering to Hadrian's own demanding, tantalizing tongue.

Temos’ arms tightened around Hadrian's neck, pressing himself closer and closer, then winced as the knife wound reminded him of his past actions.

Hadrian drew back as he heard the stifled moan of pain. “I’m sorry my love, I’m hurting you.”

Temos shook his head, “No...not hurting me...” His arms closed around Hadrian's neck again, drawing the older man down to him, ignoring the hot lance of pain stabbing his chest.

The Commander's fear of losing his love now gone, his desire was growing, fueled by the eager response of the young scout's hands and mouth, feeling the warmth of the full groin pressing into his crotch as Temos wound long legs around his thighs, pressing their bodies closer and closer.

Hadrian's hand moved down over the curve of back and buttocks, pressing Temos into his body, then moving around to the front to caress the swelling flesh so warmly pressed to him.

Temos moaned, half in delight, half in pain as his actions caused the wound in his chest to stab him viciously again, as though to remind him that a price had to be paid for his rashness.

Hadrian's control was slipping, he knew it wouldn’t take much more of this foreplay to send him over the edge and into that delightful, teasing, body lying so closely entwined with his. He slid searching fingers under the short uniform kilt to caress his lover’s half-bare buttocks, slipping one finger under the linen thong to stroke the warm, deep valley dividing the firm rounded curves, but stopped as he realised that the sudden warmth against his chest was blood. Temos’ wound was bleeding.

He started to sit up, his desire cooling abruptly. “Temos?” he asked anxiously.

Temos opened his eyes at the tone, looking up at Hadrian, his own desire clearly mirrored in their sparkling depths, but also the pain .

“Hadrian, I want you to love me, make love to me,” he moaned.

“You’re bleeding,” cried Hadrian, leaning back to see the red-stained bandage, his hand leaving it’s delightfully erotic location, to touch the cloth gently.

“It’s not much more than a cut,” said Temos stubbornly, reaching out for Hadrian again.

Hadrian bent his head, brushing his lips over the dark gold eyebrows. "And I want to love you, Temos. Take you now, but I cannot hurt you, and that bandage needs to be changed."

Temos' lips parted in a grin. "Then will you love me?" he asked softly.

Hadrian hesitated, lifting his hand to stroke one perfect cheekbone. “We've waited now for the right time, the right ceremony. I don't want any regrets from either of us in the future because we couldn't wait, and besides," he added, indicating the scout’s injured foot, “you have to be healed. You have to be able to walk without a limp, and not have any blood leaking from any part of your beautiful body...”

He lifted Temos’ chin looking him in the eyes. “So what shall we do, my beautiful Barbarian?” he breathed softly.

Temos hesitated, his whole body crying out to be taken and loved, but the wound was paining him, and he was beginning to feel the after effects of the emotional storm he'd put himself and his friends through because of his personal code of honour. What the commander said was right. He might be sorry he didn’t wait for the bonding ceremony, so he would have to forego the exquisite delights he’d no more than glimpsed in the past few minutes and wait...wait for two more days.

He looked solemnly up into the loving blue eyes and said pathetically. "Why, oh why, did I have to fall in love with a practical man, can you tell me that, Commander?"

Hadrian laughed delightedly, welcoming the teasing note that had crept back into Temos' voice, aware that the sexual tension was easing from his body, already knowing it was the right decision.

He bent and kissed the pouting lips lightly, "I don't know, Temos, maybe it's the same reason I fell in love with a tantalizing, beautiful, firey-tempered barbarian, who is going to be mine, very, very, soon." He sighed, tightening his arms and rocking Temos gently in his embrace, " All mine."

Temos snuggled into the warmth of that strong body, his own body relaxing, and yawned, suddenly very tired, drained of physical and mental energy by the exhausting events of the last twelve hours, since he'd learned of Decius' intentions.

He couldn't prevent a shiver at the thought of how close he had been to death and never knowing the delights of lying in his commander's loving embrace again. Then his eyes closed and he settled heavier against Hadrian as his body demanded, and was given the quietness of sleep, rousing to murmur contentedly. "All yours Commander, soon, very soon.. love you..."

Hadrian kissed his forehead, then without disturbing the sleeper, he quickly and efficiently changed the bloodstained cloth for a fresh one, relieved to see that the bleeding had stopped. Settling down beside the sleeping figure, he carefully cradled Temos in his arms, not willing to loosen his embrace, in case this was all a dream and he would wake up to the nightmare of facing a future without Temos.

He lay awake for a long time, just listening to the quiet, untroubled breathing of the slender body in his arms, thankful, proud and at the same time, humbled by the knowledge of the depth of the younger man's love for him. Temos had been willing to die before being parted from his love. Hadrian tightened his grip slightly, knowing that he too would have given his life to save Temos from Decius' desire, and Temos' own extreme solution to his problem.

Then turning his thoughts to pleasanter prospects, he lay dreaming of two days hence when this precious bundle of contradictions lying so contentedly in his arms, would be his to love and care for, without interference from anyone, and he at last fell asleep with a very satisfied smile on his face.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Commander Hadrian sank back into the foamy suds with an easier mind. The Ceremony of the Lunar Goddess was over and he had a couple of hours before going to the little amphitheater half a mile from the camp area, where he would be bonded with his love, for all eternity.

He relaxed into the warm bath, only vaguely aware of Bar-cus moving quietly about the tent putting out his garments he would wear later.

His mind drifted, inevitably, to what Temos would be doing at this moment.

As custom dictated, he would be attended by his closest friends and Hadrian wondered if Marcus would have the enviable task of preparing Temos for the ceremony, again that faint touch of jealousy stirred, he would have liked that privilege himself, but it was not to be.

Temos had explained that both of them had to be prepared separately and only meet at the ceremony. He'd blushed as he had described exactly how they were to be prepared which had made Hadrian smile. He would have no need of those particular ministrations, he was experienced, his body well able to accept any degree of penetration, but Temos was another matter entirely.

Hadrian sighed, wishing he could be the one to wash that glorious hair and smooth-skinned flesh; rub the sweet-smelling unguents into the intimate openings of Temos' delightful body. Although he'd accepted the fact that usually the two to be bonded were very young and virginal and would need help and advice on the correct way to behave, in order not to damage each other, he knew it wasn't necessary for himself.

Hadrian knew everything there was to know about his body and what it could achieve, both sexually and athletically and would take the greatest possible care not to hurt or frighten his younger lover. Not that Temos seemed to be afraid of anything, or anyone, but that could be the ignorance of innocence, not knowing exactly what to expect. He smiled at the thought of how eagerly Temos had responded to his ardent caresses, and reveled in the anticipation of teaching his fair-haired lover all he had learned through the years with Remo. He was willing to wager, that neither of them would ever be disappointed.

Oh, how the time dragged on, he was getting very impatient. He'd arranged for Bar-cus to help him with his preparations; the big Nubian would be back to give him a massage, oil his body and clothe him, all the things he was quite willing to do for himself, but he'd promised Temos that he would carry out his instructions.

He'd drawn the line at having anyone else with him, there was no-one else that he felt close enough to share this special, this most important occasion of his life, except his friend who served him out of love and loyalty, who had been with him on all the other dramatic and pleasurable times, so it was only fitting that Bar-cus should share this, the most important one of all.

His thoughts were interrupted by that very man coming through into the inner tent, carrying a large toweling robe. Hadrian stood up, letting the larger man wrap it around him, and stepped out of the tub. He walked across to the low couch and lay face down, waiting for Bar-cus to begin his massage.

Soon, as the strong, but gentle fingers of the giant servant were stroking over his body, Hadrian closed his eyes, smiling as he dreamed of the delights to come.

Temos was similarly occupied, only his quarters rang with laughter and bustle, as his friends from the patrol gathered to wish him well.

Soon, however, Marcus chased them all out with many a threat of punishment if they didn't move and give him room.

They departed, laughing and talking, and curiously, without the ribald remarks they would have used if one of them had been about to marry. They seemed to understand without being told, that this was an exception, this ceremony was to be kept lovingly, and solemnly. None of the young men had ever felt strongly about another person, male or female, so they laughed and joked and were supportive without being intrusive, for Temos and the Commander, whom they all respected and liked.

As the last man left the tent, an awkward little silence fell between the two friends. Despite his happiness, or even because of it, Temos felt uneasy with Marcus, and Marcus didn't quite know what to say or do, to lessen the sudden tension in his friend's manner. He looked at him now, seeing the glow of happiness shining from his eyes and lending his handsome face, a serene, contented look, that Marcus couldn't remember seeing before. Seeing that expression his own tension eased, and he smiled at Temos, gently, warmly, happy for his friend's happiness. He would not think about the differences that would be bound to occur between them after tonight. He was determined to make this occasion the happiest one yet for his comrade, he would get drunk later, in the solitude of his own quarters where Temos would not see or hear. Nothing was going to shadow this event. Nothing!

Temos smiled back a little tremulously, glad to see that Marcus seemed to be accepting the inevitable, because it was inevitable. He could neither change his mind nor his objectives. He had made his choice, and had chosen the best, of that he was sure.

Despite the hurt he knew he was innocently causing to Marcus, he could not foresee the future without Hadrian beside him, always. In bed or in battle, they would be together, forever!

Marcus raised his hands. "What do you want me to do first?" he asked, taking refuge in practical matters. "Hair… bathe...?"

Temos smile grew wider "Hair, I think. It's going to take a lot longer to dry than I will."

"That's an under-statement," said Marcus, pretending to grimace as he looked at the thick mane of hair bound with leather thongs. "I'll get the water," he said, turning to leave the inner tent.

Temos stepped forward, a hand touching his arm, "Marcus?"

"Yes," Marcus waited, head a little on one side, smiling.

"I. .er. .I just wanted to say, I'm very glad you consented to do this for me," Temos paused. “I mean, I would understand, the circumstances being what they are, if you'd rather not." He paused, holding Marcus' gaze without flinching. "Tell me," he said softly, "please tell me, if you'd rather not."

Marcus wanted to sweep him into his arms and run away, but he loved his friend far too much. Loved him enough, more than enough, to do this last service for him, one which would be torture for himself, but also a pleasure. Marcus only hoped he'd be able to control his feelings long enough to do the preparations well.

He put his hand on top of the strong one on his arm, and smiled gently. "I am very glad to be able to do this service for you, my love, my friend," he corrected himself instantly. "I am honoured that you have asked me," and trust me, he thought inwardly.

"I don't know of anyone who has more right to be by my side on this greatest occasion of my life, than you, Marcus. I want you to be here, I just don't want to burden you if you'd rather not accompany me, that is all I meant."

"I wouldn't want anyone else to accompany you, I'd feel slighted if you'd chosen another," Marcus' tone was only half teasing, he meant it.

Temos smiled affectionately at him, then stepped back, allowing Marcus to leave. He was soon back, pulling aside the inner flap to allow two servants to carry in a large wooden tub. In a short space of time it was two thirds full of hot soapy water, a smaller tub next to it, holding clean water.

Dismissing the attendants, Marcus turned to Temos, pretending to roll up nonexistent sleeves with slow deliberation, making Temos chuckle at his solemn expression. He had already loosened his hair and slipped his tunic off his shoulders to keep it dry, and bent down over the smaller tub, still chortling to himself.

Marcus laughed with him, pleased at the easy feeling between them, it had been absent for too long.

Bending down over the tub he started to wash his friend's hair, thoroughly and competently, ignoring the muttered protests about being half drowned, from his complaining friend.

Finished after a few minutes, he wrapped a towel around the wet mass and urged Temos to lift his head. Temos sat back on a low stool while Marcus briskly rubbed at his head, removing the excess water out of his hair with the towel. Stepping back, the volunteer bath attendant urged his friend to stop complaining, as he still had to comb it through.

Temos groaned and rolled his eyes, declaring out loud that, "perhaps he would be better off, doing it himself."

Marcus cast around for the large brush and comb that Temos used, and started tidying the heavy mass of hair back from his face. There would be a lot to do with that mane yet; Temos had taught him the correct method of arranging his hair into the style the warriors of his tribe had used for generations, and it would take some time to finish it.

Finished for the moment, the barber stepped back and indicated the larger tub. "All right, in you go, let's have you all groomed and curried," he teased.

Temos glared up at him, responding as of old to the teasing. "I'm not a horse, Marcus. No wonder your beast keeps throwing you, if this is the way you treat him."

Still grumbling, he stepped up onto the supporting step, slipping out of his tunic and lowered himself into the warm water.

An hour later, after lots of splashing and general mayhem, Temos was bathed, his hair combed through ready for styling, and he was lying on his couch his slim body gleaming with the oils and creams Marcus was massaging in to his golden skin.

Marcus' hands slowly moved over every inch of the delightful form, his heart heavy with the thought that he’d never be able to touch it so intimately again.

He’d almost lost control as his long fingers moved lower, circling across his friend’s flat stomach and narrow hips, touching the vulnerable genitals exposed between Temos’ long legs. Hurriedly moving away as Temos shifted uncomfortably, Marcus moved down to massage the muscles in his legs, then finished off tickling his bare feet, making Temos squirm and laugh, breaking the silence that had fallen.

Gruffly telling his friend to turn over, Marcus had managed to gain control of his emotions, until he'd reached the tight, peach-shaped swell of Temos' buttocks. His fingers had delved a little too deeply into the warm valley and Temos had tensed, protesting nervously. "Marcus, please..."

Marcus drew back with a tremendous effort, and patted the gleaming curves. "Sorry, Temos..." then with an attempt at their usual humour, added, "You shouldn't have such a tantalizing rear."

Temos glanced back over his shoulder, a faint smile on his face, respecting Marcus all the more for his restraint.

He, too, was tense and expectant of the coming evening when his commander would teach him in the ways that would please Hadrian most. His youthful body was easily aroused just at the mere thought of Hadrian's hands and mouth, touching him, making them irrevocably part of each other and Marcus' obvious and sincere desire for him wasn't helping at all.

Much too soon for Marcus, he had finished the massage and slapped Temos' buttocks lightly, then swiftly kissed each one briefly, "There, I think you're ready to get your hair dressed."

Temos had taught Marcus how to braid and bind his hair in the warrior and various other styles of his tribe, during long boring days when nothing much had been happening in their lives, and had come to like his friend's light, sure touch.

Marcus always groaned when Temos asked him to help with his hair, but secretly loved the task, and would willingly brush and comb it, until his friend was satisfied with his efforts.

Wrapped in a bath sheet, Temos sat relaxing as Marcus combed and styled his long hair into the appropriate style he wanted for the ceremony, and with that task completed, Temos checked his appearance in the polished bronze mirror, and nodded his satisfaction at the result.

Swinging long bronzed legs over the edge of the couch, Temos got up and stretched his limbs gracefully, then turned to Marcus.

"Thank you, my dear friend," he murmured, holding out his hand.

Marcus took it, pressing it between his own, then turned away, "I'll get your robe."

Temos nodded, eyes clouding a little at his friend's unhappiness, then busied himself wrapping the white silk genital pouch and loincloth around his slender hips, and adjusted Hadrian's gift around his arm. It was in the shape of a serpent, twisting three times around his left bicep, each eye set with a single brilliant emerald, every detail intricately and delicately carved on the golden band, matching the gold and jeweled comb over his right ear and the solid gold torque around his neck, which he’d had ever since that eventful night he’d been orphaned and set on his path to this time and place.

Marcus turned, the white silk robe in his hands to find Temos waiting for him. The young barbarian's golden-brown body gleamed and the scrap of white material around his loins merely accentuated the slim beauty of his form.

Marcus's breath caught in his throat at the vision of youthful beauty in front of him and stepped forward, then catching sight of the faint vertical groove between the wide eyes, he halted, recognizing the uncertainty of his motives that must be flooding Temos' mind.

Taking a deep breath, he held out the garment, "Here, Temos," his voice was rough with emotion, "the final adornment."

He busied himself arranging the silk around Temos, leaving one shoulder bare as he'd been taught, carefully tying the loose knot on his left shoulder, and arranging the folds carefully. The material draped in graceful folds from the knot to Temos' bare feet, concealing the figure without detracting from its beauty.

Stepping back to check the fall of the garment, Marcus then looked Temos in the eye. “You're sure about this, Temos? I mean, absolutely convinced that this is right for you?" He paused, then added desperately, "Because if you have any doubts at all, please tell me now. In a few more minutes, it will be too late."

Temos' eyes softened and grew even brighter as he put both hands on his dark-haired friend's shoulders. "Marcus," he said softly, "I've never been more sure of anything. For the first time in my entire life, I feel as though I'm home. Wherever the commander is, that's my home. I love him, more than my own life, and I know he feels the same."

He paused, hand stroking gently over Marcus' lean cheek. "I know I've hurt you with my decision, but Marcus, I'll never stop loving you. You've been my companion and my friend, for many years, that is very special to me; and although I can't love you in exactly the same way as I do Hadrian, that love is just as deep and will last just as long."

Marcus sighed, surrendering his last hope. Yet he couldn't be sad, not now. The love, for him, shining in those beautiful eyes, warmed and eased the chill in his heart. He raised his gaze, and smiled, pleased when the anxious look faded from Temos' gaze. He took the firm chin in one hand and brushed his lips tenderly over his friend's mouth, at once a farewell and acceptance of their new status.

Temos hugged him warmly, then stood back. Marcus let him go and turned towards the opening, looking out at the sky. The stars were beginning to appear in the velvety blue blackness, and he said, "It's almost time for the ceremony, Temos."

Temos took a deep breath, smiling as Marcus turned, "I'm ready." he said simply.

Hadrian smiled at Bar-cus, holding out his hand which the big man accepted willingly and carefully held between his own. He closed his eyes and murmured something in his own tongue, which Hadrian recognized as a blessing.

His hand tightened around that of his friend and servant, there were many years between them, full of loyalty, friendship, even of love, and he was glad that Bar-cus would stand with him in this, the most important and significant event of his life.

He felt curiously calm after the frantic heartache of the past few days, when he'd so nearly lost his love, maybe forever. He had no doubts now as to Temos' love, and his own seemed stronger than ever, if that were possible.

He looked forward to the bonding ceremony as a new experience, but even without it, would have no hesitation in binding himself to Temos for life. For the first time since the tide of battle had taken Remo from him, Hadrian was at peace with his inner self and his heart.

He would never forget his former lover and what they'd been to each other, but knew that Remo would approve of his choice and would wish him well, wish them both well, for he'd had a soft spot for the fiery little barbarian, as he'd called Temos. He'd told Hadrian this when reporting to his commander about the younger man's background.

Bar-cus turned to the folded cloak, but Hadrian shook his head, "No, I'll not wear that just yet, my friend. Have you the gift for Temos?"

Bar-cus nodded, smiling a rare smile, as he went across the tent to another bundle and picked it up. Turning, he studied his commander, nodding approvingly.

Hadrian cut a very fine figure, dressed in a white silk robe, his right shoulder bare as custom dictated, the glow from the lamp showing his tanned skin and brief undergarment through the thin material. The commander's feet were bare and he stood tall and proud as he waited calmly for the moment when he could walk to the meeting place and see his beloved and betrothed.

The feeling of calm persisted as Hadrian stood beside Temos in the light of dozens of candles arranged in a half circle in the cleared space between two rocky outcrops .

With the formal ceremony to the Lunar goddess concluded, most of the soldiers had drifted away. Only the invited witnesses were present, but everyone within that semicircle was conscious of the many pairs of eyes beyond the candlelight watching the proceedings, some with curiosity, some with interest, but nearly all with understanding.

Of course there was some disapproval, not everyone thought this match was a good idea, but Hadrian was a member of a noble and powerful family, so not one of the men who disapproved dared to speak their minds on a matter, which after all, was purely personal.

Some were envious at the complete commitment of two respected and intelligent comrades. For at this moment, their commander was a comrade and the fact that he was about to bond himself to their young champion, made him a dear comrade.

Hadrian had no eyes except for the tall figure standing proudly by his side. He'd caught his breath at his first glimpse of Temos, the elaborate dressing of his hair could not conceal the shining gold of it, or the jeweled ornaments dim its lustre

The white silk of his robe and calm, serene beauty of his face making him seem ethereally different; a being from a bygone age, or even a future one, unknown to any of them.

For a moment, panic struck at Hadrian and he moved a fraction closer to his love, seeking reassurance of his physical presence.

Temos turned his head, and Hadrian relaxed again. The brightness in that gaze and the smile that tugged at the sculptured lips were very physical, and he felt a tiny trickle of desire at the smouldering look from those green eyes.

Then his young face grew solemn again, as though having reassured his love, he could now concentrate on the ceremony, and Hadrian was happy to be able to do this too.

Marcus, watching them from behind the priest, felt his heart lift at the sight of the pair, so obviously and deeply attuned. His heart felt a lot easier now that he had accepted Temos' choice and realised it was a good one. Hadrian would never grow tired of, or abandon his young friend.

He vaguely wondered where Decius was at this moment, hopefully he wouldn't make a scene, or cause any disruption to the ceremony. He had kept his promise to Hadrian and stayed well out of the older soldier's way. He'd heard that Hadrian had called Decius to his tent, but what had passed between them was as yet unknown, then he dismissed the man from his thoughts and concentrated on the scene before him.

As the priest began a long chanting speech, Marcus' eyes drifted around the rocky clearing. It was a most impressive sight. The two tall, handsome figures, dressed alike in white silk robes, standing in front of the holy man from Temos' adopted tribe, he and Bar-cus, as witnesses standing behind him. They were all enclosed in a wide semicircle of lighted candles, glowing steadily in the windless night. The only ceiling was the huge vault of the sky, the stars twinkling brightly against the blue-black velvet. In this part of the known world, the stars always appeared bigger and brighter to Marcus' eyes, though he knew of a certain pair of bright eyes which would put the stars to shame.

His attention was brought back to the ceremony as the priest stepped forward with a golden cord and proceeded to bind Hadrian' s left wrist to Temos' left wrist, altering their positions so that they faced each other.

Marcus' recalled his friend telling him that this was symbolic, protecting each other with their sword hands free.

He glanced across at the huge figure of Bar-cus, seeing his usual scowl replaced with a solemn expression which also contained contentment. He realised that just as he and Temos were friends, that same state existed between the commander and his servant.

He heard the priest ask the ceremonial questions and heard the calm and steady replies as the two warriors vowed to be bonded, emotionally and physically, for their lifetimes.

Then it was the turn of the witnesses, and Marcus and Bar-cus stepped forward, their hands on the golden cord, and spoke their own vows of eternal friendship and brotherhood to the warrior couple.

As they stepped back, each received a faint smile from Temos, and a nod of thanks and approval from their commander, who was now also their friend and brother.

Temos' eyes were huge and solemn, he had been very affected by the ceremony, and glad now he'd waited. His heart and soul had been purged by the blessings inherent in the ceremony, and he could now go with his bond mate and soon-to-be-lover with a quiet and contented heart.

Hadrian had found the ceremony soothing and very interesting, even though some of the priest's words hadn't been understood completely, spoken as they were in the barbaric language of Temos' tribe. He could now understand why his bond-mate had wanted this ritual, it had calmed and prepared them both for the seriousness of their actions. This was no quick ceremony to be forgotten in a couple of weeks; this night would stay with him for the rest of his days.

He turned with Temos, lifting his left arm over the golden head so that he could walk directly behind the smaller figure, as they walked in procession to the edge of the clearing. They passed between two huge rocks which guarded the entrance to another smaller clearing. It was in this inner circle that Bar-cus and Marcus had erected the tent which would be the newly bonded couple's home for the next seven days. It was isolated, cut off from the main camp by one mile of empty desert and could only be approached from one side, between the two rocks. As Hadrian and Temos passed between the rocks, Bar-cus took up his stance beside the opening, reassuring the bonded couple that their privacy would not be invaded by anyone. Marcus stopped beside him, he would share the guard duty with Bar-cus in the next few days.

As though by unspoken consent, Temos halted, and with Hadrian beside him held out his right hand first to Bar-cus, thanking him in a low voice for his support; then to Marcus. It was grasped warmly, but not possessively; during the ceremony Marcus had come to terms with his loss, and nothing would spoil Temos' happiness if he could prevent it.

"Thank you, Marcus, for your support and for all the years of friendship past, and the years to come..." he broke off, swallowing hard, his eyes suspiciously damp.

Marcus smiled at him, and put his other hand on top of their clasped ones. "I'll drink to that," he murmured, replying with their own secret and ancient answer to everything, but his eyes were tender and spoke far more than mere words could say.

Hadrian settled his hand lightly across theirs and looked Marcus straight in the eyes.

"Thank you, my friend, for the gift of your friendship..." but they both knew that Hadrian was thanking Marcus for the unselfish way he'd handled himself in the past few days, for the commander knew that if Marcus had decided to fight him, then his own path to happiness would have been delayed, if not thwarted, and Temos would not have looked so serene and happy.

Marcus nodded briefly, then stood back, as Hadrian held out his hand to Bar-cus, who took it in his powerful grasp, holding it tightly for a long moment, before stepping back, he had no words to offer, except his heart and his courage, and they had been Hadrian's for many long years, and now belonged to both bond-mates.

As they turned again to move towards their tent, a low chorus of voices called out of the night, "Good luck commander... good luck Temos. . .be happy..."

Hadrian and Temos looked their surprise, they had forgotten their unseen audience, but both smiled and lifted their right arms, in acknowledgment of the comments, in case their well-wishers could see them in the bright starlight.

Then they were walking slowly and carefully across the cooling sand to the large tent.

Temos lifted the embroidered flap which covered the entrance, and Hadrian replaced it carefully behind them as they entered the lamp lit interior.

They looked around, both smiling as they acknowledged the amount of work that had been put into their temporary home to make them comfortable.

The interior of the tent was divided into two separate rooms by a heavy damask curtain, the room they were standing in was furnished with tables and chairs, the commander's writing desk standing in one corner. There was a low couch, a basket of fresh fruit and a tall, flagon of wine on the small table.

Hadrian took in every item with one swift glance, then his eyes returned to his companion, who had turned to face him. Their left arms still bound by the golden cord stretching between them, symbolically making them one.

Hadrian cleared his throat. "Would you like some wine?" he asked hoarsely, almost drowning in the depths of those huge, dark-lashed eyes. The thick fringe blinked once, then a soft shake of the fair head, as a tinge of colour rose to the handsome face. Hadrian's hand moved to touch the outline of Temos' jaw, "Some fruit, perhaps?" Again the silent shake of the head.

"Shall we see what our friends have arranged for us...in there?" he asked softly, inclining his head towards the inner part of the tent.

Temos' flush deepened, but his nod of acceptance was very firm. Stepping forward Hadrian positioned himself until his arm was wrapped around his companion's half bare shoulders and they walked slowly into their sleeping quarters.

A quick glance around showed the care and consideration with which Marcus and Bar-cus had furnished this room.

A large, round, couch dominated the centre of the limited space; the cushions scattered across it were plump and silken, giving an air both of luxury and comfort.

A pair of cream-coloured goatskin rugs covered the floor on each side of the couch, lying in silky abandon on top of the expensive carpet; the lighted lamps standing in a half circle around the outer skin of the tent cast a warm glow, burnishing the sheen on Temos' hair to a deeper honey, and turning Hadrian’s lighter hair to soft gold. On a small table there was another basket of fruit and stone jar, filled with wine.

Hadrian appreciated the thought, but knew he would have no need of wine or fruit this night, if the promised sweetness of the mouth he'd tasted all too briefly, was any yardstick.

Temos' eyes had also noticed all the thoughtful little items placed in their bedchamber and he half smiled.

"It is reassuring that we will be comfortable for the night, my commander," he said teasingly, looking up at Hadrian through his eyelashes. A look that made the older man's breath catch in his throat.

"Very reassuring," agreed Hadrian hoarsely. Trying for some control, he picked up the small bundle which Bar-cus had placed on the table.

"This is for you, Temos," he said, smiling at the young man.

"Oh, thank you, Hadrian. But you've already given me many gifts," said Temos as he took the soft parcel.

"That's my privilege," said Hadrian. "Open it, tell me if you like it."

Unwrapping the outer material, Temos discovered to his amazed delight a short over-kilt and harness in the style he usually wore, but this leather was pure white and made from the softest skins he'd ever seen. It was so supple it felt like the finest cloth rather than tanned leather.

"Oh Hadrian, it is beautiful..." Temos said. "I won't dare wear it in case I stain it."

Hadrian laughed. "It is meant to be worn, Temos. I'm glad you like it."

"Like? I love it," Temos said, lifting the garment to his face and rubbing it gently, before placing it carefully back on the table.

"Well, that's all that matters then," said Hadrian huskily.

His right hand lifted to caress Temos' cheek and trailed long fingers down the smooth column of his throat, finally coming to rest on the knotted silk robe on his left shoulder. He unfastened it slowly, savouring the heightened colour in his bond-mate's face and the almost hungry look in his eyes.

The knot came loose and the silk whispered its way to the carpeted floor and Hadrian caressed the almost nude figure with his eyes, noticing with almost possessive pride the firm youthful muscles, and slenderness of waist and rounded curves of hips hidden beneath the white silk loin cloth. He reached for the fastening on the side and pulled gently, watching Temos' face, drinking in the flushed features and starry eyes.

Temos shivered, with excitement, not cold, as he felt the last of his garments slide to the floor, half-relishing, half-afraid of the bright look of hunger that appeared in his commander's vivid blue eyes.

Hadrian had seen Temos naked before, but not in this intimate of all places, and he could feel his body stir just at the sight of the long legs and flat stomach, with the beautifully proportioned genitals showing between the lean muscled thighs.

His breath caught in a soft moan "Oh, Temos," he breathed, "you're so beautiful, and I want you so much..." his voice sank to a soft murmur. "I'm almost afraid to touch you, in case this is a dream, a fantasy, that will fade as soon as I reach out."

Even as he spoke, his hand reached out to touch Temos' chest, tracing a straight line down to his navel and beyond, to touch the swelling in his groin with a tentative fingertip.

Temos choked on a laugh, he didn't feel like laughing, he felt like yelling that he was real. Instead, he reached out an unsteady right hand and tugged at Hadrian's robe, watching it flutter to the floor, before daring to raise his eyes and look at his commander.

The commander's muscular torso swelled in a deep breath, and he nodded as though encouraging Temos to finish his disrobing. This Temos did, and soon he could feast his own eyes on the powerful frame which he'd never seen in this so vulnerable and delightful pose.

His eyes flickered over the broad chest and narrow waist to the firm hips and flat stomach, flushing as his eyes discovered the state of his mate's arousal. Hadrian's sex was hard and already half erect, pointing towards the object of his desire.

Hadrian stepped forward, unable to keep from touching Temos any longer. Their lips met in a long, slow kiss, that gradually became more heated and frantic as their hips brushed together, the hard lance of Hadrian's sex thrusting into the smoothness of Temos' belly, the older man gratified to feel his new bond mate's own hardening bulk rising to rub against his.

For long moments they stood thus, the bones of thigh and pelvis ground immovably together, trapping the throbbing excitement of their genitals, until at last, their lips broke contact and they gasped for breath.

Temos’ half-closed eyes and trembling mouth sent a surge of tenderness through Hadrian to mingle with the desire he felt at the nearness of the youthful body pressed to his.

With an effort he eased himself away a fraction and put two fingers under the younger man's chin tilting the flushed face upwards until Temos looked straight at him.

Hadrian smiled, tracing the outline of the beautiful mouth with a careful fingertip. "Are you certain you don't want some wine?" he asked, hardly knowing why he was asking such an ordinary question, when he felt far removed from his ordinary existence.

The fair head nodded its assurance, Temos’ star-filled eyes meeting his for a second before being veiled by the fringe of dark lashes.

"Not unless you do," Temos' husky whisper was barely audible.

He was trembling with anticipation and need, but thought that maybe Hadrian needed something to eat, or drink, before they consummated their bonding.

He didn't know what was the right, or expected thing to do in these matters, all he wanted was for his lover to kiss him, touch him, feel that still hard flesh against him again. He gulped nervously, feel it inside him, making him the commander's for all eternity, but he was too shy to ask, he couldn't say the words.

Hadrian studied the fringe of dark lashes which shaded the sparkling eyes, trying to gauge the best thing to do. He wanted to scoop Temos up and carry him across to the cushioned couch - throw him down and sheathe his aching flesh between the exotic, peach shaped buttocks. That’s what he wanted, but what did Temos want? What if that alarmed his young lover, who had never known such an experience?

Hadrian felt the heat still radiating through his body from the spot where their flesh touched, and bit the inside of his lip, trying for control.

"No..." he whispered, "I want, oh Temos, I want you.'"

He broke off as Temos lifted shining eyes, the delight clearly visible and Hadrian relaxed. He lifted his arm, feeling the slight pull of the golden cord on his wrist as he flipped it over Temos head, sliding his hand down to support his lover's back, then bent slightly, his other hand easing under Temos' knees as he lifted the lighter figure to cradle it against his chest.

Temos turned his heated features into Hadrian's shoulder, his own right arm stealing around to clasp the broad back as Hadrian carried him the few feet to the couch. Hadrian stood for a moment, savouring the yielding weight in his arms, before allowing Temos to slide to the soft rug.

They stood facing each other, the silken cord hanging slackly between them. "What do we do with the cord now?" Hadrian asked, for once at a loss, "cut it, or just untie it?"

The colour in Temos' face deepened to crimson and he looked down at the silk cord. Then making up his mind, he straightened proudly and managed to say in as calm a tone as he could manage.

"My father once told me that if the two who are bonded are truly meant to be together, they will not sever the cord until after," he faltered an instant, "until after they are physically joined and become one." He met the blazing blue eyes bravely. "It symbolizes and shows the measure of trust that they can be so vulnerable, bound each to the other..."

There was a long pause in which Hadrian felt as if his chest would explode from sheer pride at the obvious trust offered to him.

"My father said, he said, such unions had always lasted...even, even after death."

The low voice trailed away, but the bright gaze still looked at the older man asking without words for his reaction. His heart too full for mere words, Hadrian clasped his hands over Temos' and pulled him closer, head lowering to kiss the questioning mouth with tender urgency.

"Then we'll leave it," he declared simply as he lifted his head, realising that the younger man wanted to hear his response as well as feel it in the warmth of his lips.

Temos smiled slowly, his anxious trembling easing; he'd needed the reassurance even while knowing it wasn't really necessary between them; he'd never felt safer or more loved than right here in this man's strong arms, and his heart was soothed and excited by the knowledge the feeling was returned in equal measure.

The feeling of tender regard persisted through the long, warm night, as Hadrian took him to the very peak of ecstasy, teaching him how to pleasure the older man, and how to express his deep emotions in physical lovemaking.

At first, tense and uncertain as the heavier weight of the larger man pressed him into the soft cushions, the hot, hard lance of pulsing flesh seeking entrance to his body, Temos whimpered softly, trying not to struggle as the eagerly questing head of his bond-mate's huge erection pushed against his tight anal opening. His muscles tightened involuntarily and Temos gasped, partly in panic, partly in frustration at the refusal of his body to permit his lover's entry.

Hadrian's mouth and hands soothed and caressed him, murmuring softly "It's all right, my love, try and relax, there's no need to hurry...all will be well."

He took his time, kissing and licking Temos' ears, brushing his tongue across the moist lashes, and down to his chest moving over the rosy nipples, rousing them to taut, hard peaks of desire, then continued to nuzzle kisses down to the deep well of his navel, and beyond.

Still kissing and licking at the sun-bronzed skin, Hadrian's strong hands parted his young mate's thighs and lifted his long legs across his own hips, widening the warm, damp cleft between the firm buttocks to allow his swelling manhood access to the sweet, tight, virginal channel which led to the innermost core of his lover's being.

Hadrian was very patient, feeling the tenseness and hidden anxiety that he'd known would be the youngster's first reaction to intercourse, as despite the depth of love Temos had for his commander, the young scout had never surrendered to this loving force before.

Slowly, as Hadrian kissed and petted each tiny nipple, moving down Temos' supple body with loving tenderness, to the hardening, rose-tipped flesh between the golden thighs, he felt the resistance fading, and as he pushed a careful finger into the entrance of Temos' body again, his mate shuddered and Hadrian felt the relaxing of the tight anal muscles.

Hadrian paused, hearing Temos give a surprised little grunt at the new sensations pouring through him, then without Temos at first realising, Hadrian had replaced his fingertip with his by-now frantic sex, and penetrated his young lover's unconscious defences and was thrusting slowly and powerfully into the hot dampness, seeking the ultimate pleasure point for them both, until finally, he took ecstatic possession of his heart's desire.

It was everything and more, much more than Hadrian had hoped or dreamed about. The erotic writhing as the younger man rode the urgent, almost savage, waves of his invading bulk, took Hadrian to the topmost heights of passion and satisfaction; and hearing Temos sigh and moan for more of his insatiable demands caused Hadrian to redouble his efforts to bury himself deeper and harder into the welcoming flesh.

Hadrian felt strong and sure, ready and eager to return in equal measure, the pleasure he was receiving, unbearably aroused and touched at the sight of his bond-mate's flushed features, the soft sighs from the parted lips, pink and swollen from kisses given and received and feeling he could almost drown in the sea-green depths of the sparkling eyes. His hands clenching in the scout's silky hair as Temos tossed his head, sending the golden mane rippling across the sheets, amazed at the equally strong grip on his shoulders by Temos' long fingers.

Time and again, after brief spells of rest as they kissed and stroked each other, without even withdrawing completely from the warm, moist haven of his mate's body, Hadrian sought to reach the inner core of his lover's being, giving and receiving delighted satisfaction in full measure as the youngster's tight-walled secret places, caressed and fed stimulation to his hungry, invading organ.

The pearly light of dawn was lightening the interior of the tent before they slept, wrapped tightly in each other's arms, their relaxed limbs and bodies gleaming with sweat, and smeared with the scented balm Hadrian had used to ease his tender but irresistible invasion of Temos' virgin flesh.

A few hours later Hadrian awoke, hearing faint sounds from the outer room of the tent. He listened intently, although not expecting any danger, he was always wary, then upon hearing the sound of water splashing into a container, relaxed, smiled faintly, knowing who it would be. Bar-cus, going about his usual duties - he'd always brought Hadrian's morning bath water and it sounded as though he was going to continue to do so.

Reassured that all was well, he turned his head to look at his bed-mate, the smile deepening in his eyes and spreading down to curve his lips.

His bed-mate, his bonded partner for life, his most beloved lover, lay sleeping at his side. Temos lay on his back, Hadrian's left arm curving under his neck, the hand half-tangled in the mane of unbound hair which flowed across the bed in a golden stream and disappeared over the edge. Temos' left hand lay loosely entwined in Hadrian's, their wrists still bound together with the cord, his right lay slackly on his middle.

The light cover had long since fallen to the floor, and the youth's bare legs stretched out long and straight, slightly parted, showing his well-shaped genitals to Hadrian's appreciative gaze. The commander's tongue edged his lips in sensuous delight as he remembered the sweet, erotic, taste of his lover's flesh, now so innocently exposed.

Hadrian settled on his side, content, for the moment, just to watch his love sleeping, admiring the length and thickness of the long dark lashes that shaded his flushed cheeks; the handsome features even more beautiful in repose than when his young bond-mate was awake, the unblemished innocence of the sleeping face made Hadrian's heart ache and quicken its beat.

He didn't regret a single second of the previous day and night, or a single moment since he'd first laid eyes on the laughing youngster, but knew he was laying himself wide open to unbearable anguish, because he loved Temos so very much. What if... Hadrian's throat tightened. What if the tide of battle took his love away, as it had Remo and so many of his friends?

His right hand brushed gently over the sleeper's brow, moving a rebellious lock of hair, and tracing down the fine line of his jaw to rest in the hollow of his throat. Hadrian sighed, and leaning over Temos kissed the faintly beating pulse, drawing back as Temos stirred, murmuring through parted lips, "Hadrian.... lover...."

It gave Hadrian a warm glow, to know that he was in Temos' mind as much as the younger man was in his own.

"Hush, sleep my sweet barbarian . . . there's time for sleep..."

Temos sighed and snuggled closer as though he'd heard the faint words, his right hand rising to touch Hadrian's shoulder.

Hadrian kissed him, he couldn't resist, even knowing it might wake his mate. The merest butterfly touch on the parted lips, brought an immediate response.

Temos awakened quietly and without warning, his eyes blinking once, then settling on Hadrian's pensive face.

"Hadrian, you look so sad. What is wrong?" The query was soft, but insistent, a shadow of anxiety clouding the soft sparkle in his green eyes.

Hadrian smiled. "What a greeting, you re supposed to say Good morning, aren't you?"

Temos smiled, "Good morning, my wonderful commander, what's wrong, why are you sad?" The smile faded suddenly as a terrible thought struck the younger man. He tensed in Hadrian's arms, "You haven't...you don't...you're not disappointed, are you? You haven't changed your mind about...about everything?"

The stark dismay in the wide eyes, made Hadrian pull him tighter into his own body, cradling the slighter figure as though to protect him from all outside harm.

"Oh, no, no, Temos, I haven't changed my mind. How could I be disappointed, when you are so beautiful, and loving. You took me to Paradise last night, and even the gods were jealous of my good fortune."

He kissed Temos' trembling mouth passionately, "No, my love, you couldn’t disappoint me," he whispered.

Reassured, Temos relaxed. "You mean that, don’t you?" he asked, half in awe, half embarrassed.

The older man nodded. "Every word," he said simply.

He kissed Temos again, long and lingeringly, until they both had to surface for air. Temos pressing himself tighter against the powerful frame holding him and Hadrian gave a breathless laugh, "And from that response, I don't think you were very disappointed either."

Temos blushed scarlet, but bravely shook his head, "Oh no, it was wonderful. When you touched me, and kissed me...." his hand strayed down to touch Hadrian's groin and his skin reddened again as he encountered the erecting organ, "my bones turned to water, but when you, when you were inside me, so deep, so strong, I felt you touch my heart." He glanced up, meeting Hadrian's twinkling blue gaze. "I knew then we were truly joined and I wanted more. I felt so powerful, strong enough to want more of you...and more...and you gave me more, all of yourself. I felt it.'" He whispered the last words and glanced down at their bodies lying so closely, so naturally together. "Is it always like that? So weakening, yet so powerful and strong?"

Hadrian' handsome face was pink too, with sheer delight at the thought of how much pleasure he'd given his young lover. "It can be, Temos. With us, I hope it always will."

He rolled over across the slender body, pressing him back to the couch, and kissed him hard his tongue exploring the unique flavour of the parted lips, opening wider under his, in responsive welcome. The heat rising from his loins melting them both with its fire.

Temos wriggled until he could support the heavier body between his spread thighs, reveling in the weight of the hard flesh boring into his crotch, his legs widening invitingly just as his mouth was inviting his lover's tongue to enter and explore.

Hadrian groaned, he wanted to penetrate that passage of delights, but was wary of overloading Temos' vulnerable and tender flesh, but Temos, as though divining his lover's thoughts, sucked on his tongue harder, and arched his back, grinding their groins together, and put the finishing touches to Hadrian's weakening resolve by lifting his legs and wrapping them around his commander's hips.

With a soft moan of frustrated delight, Hadrian's hands slid round to cup the half raised buttocks, and slid an exploring finger into the valley between. Temos felt open and moist, ready and willing for Hadrian to enter. Despite his ever-growing urgency, Hadrian spared a few moments to coat his straining shaft with more of the sweet-smelling balm, and carefully massaged the tender flesh he was about to penetrate.

Temos moaned in quiet delight, his mouth reaching up to cover Hadrian's mouth and neck with soft, damp kisses, becoming more and more relaxed as his lover carefully prepared them both.

Hadrian pulled his head up so that he could look down into his bond mate's pink-suffused features, smiling gently, then seeing his own lust mirrored in the expressive eyes, he kissed Temos hard on the mouth, before easing his needy sex into the waiting orifice.

It was just as marvelous as before, even more so, as they were both more relaxed less anxious to please, just allowing their emotions and physical needs carry them both to ecstatic fulfillment. Hadrian felt as though he could go on exploring the secret delights of this unknowable country for ever, as Temos rose to every thrust and wave of his desire, matching and stimulating his mate's every move until sheer exhaustion at last forced them to relax, their hearts pounding, their breath coming in satisfied gasps.

They lay tightly embraced, legs entwined, softening genitals pressed against damp skin, Temos' head resting on Hadrian's chest, the commander's chin resting on top of the silky, wildly disordered mane of hair.

When their heartbeats had returned to normal, Hadrian stroked his right hand through the long hair, and down over the smooth skin of Temos' back cupping a firm damp buttock and squeezing it in mute gratitude.

Temos sighed and turning his head, kissed the tanned chest under his head, and settled back again.

Hadrian thought he was going to melt with tenderness at the soft murmuring against his chest and his hand tightened on one smooth hip, as his thoughts unbidden, returned to his earlier fears.

They lived in a savage age, where fighting and battles were the norm, and the unexpected was always just a day's march away. He knew he couldn't keep Temos away from any battles they would encounter, much as he wanted to keep him safe. For one thing Temos wouldn't allow it, he was a warrior and would feel as though it demeaned him in some way in Hadrian's eyes if he wasn't by his side, whatever the circumstances.

Again Temos sensed his mood, Hadrian realised he shouldn't be surprised, there was a lot more than courage and fighting ability hidden under that thatch of golden hair and skin.

"Tell me," his mate murmured softly, "what is troubling you, my love?"

Hadrian tried to shrug, "Nothing..." he began, but Temos raised himself onto his left elbow, looking down into Hadrian's sky-blue eyes.

"Please, Hadrian. I want to share everything with you. Your thoughts, and any, any doubts..." he flushed as Hadrian gave him a very warm look, "I know now that you aren't disappointed in me, but I can't help wondering. Is it something I've done, or not done?"

Hadrian sighed, blinking slowly as he glanced away, then making up his mind, he met the anxious green-blue eyes. By the stars, he thought, they change colour so quickly.

Bringing his mind back with an effort to his thoughts, he explained slowly and haltingly to Temos, his fears for the future, not of their relationship, but of losing his mate in battle, or accident.

"I have lost a lot of friends in battle, or through illness or accident..." he paused, "and it hurts a great deal."

He was silent a moment, and Temos' right hand stroked his shoulder comfortingly. "But if you were to fall in battle, the emptiness in my heart could never be filled."

He stopped, choking on his emotion, and Temos stared at him for a moment, before putting his arms around the older man and hugging him tightly. He was young and strong, filled with hope for the future, those kind of thoughts had only rarely crossed his mind, and he never worried about the future, because he knew he couldn't change it. He could understand Hadrian's fears, however, for his own fears for his commander's welfare had been intensified when he began to fall in love with him, and the desolation he knew would fill his heart if anything were to happen to Hadrian, was the only black spot in a shining future.

An ancient oath, borne out of his understanding and wanting to reassure the older man flashed through his head, and he reached out to pick up the knife from his weapons belt on the floor.

Hadrian was startled when Temos sat up, armed with the knife, and for a split second wondered if Temos' volatile nature was about to erupt again, as it had when he'd threatened to end his own life to spare his loved ones any more grief.

He sat up too, staring into Temos' eyes, and was gratified to see that the green-blue gaze was quite calm.

His amazement turned to horror, however, when Temos lifted the keen blade and held the point to his own chest, right over his heart. He sat quite still, not daring to move as Temos reached for his right hand and placed it on top of his own on the hilt.

Holding Hadrian's mesmerised eyes, he leaned over and gently kissed the older man's slightly trembling hand.

"Hadrian, my lover, my bonded mate, I swear that I will never leave you, in this life, or whatever life lies beyond the final darkness. This I swear on the head of my father and his mate, and my mother and her children - and on both our lives."

He placed his other hand on top of Hadrian's and squeezed it gently.

For a second Hadrian couldn't move, then his held-in breath escaped in a gasp of understanding, and he placed his free hand on top of the others and patted the clasped hands, before bending to kiss Temos' fingers, oddly reassured by the acknowledgment of the terrible depth of feeling between them. He knew without being told, that this oath meant that Temos wouldn't live without his mate; they would be together in this life and together in the world beyond.

"I swear that I will never leave you, my wild one," he said huskily, and was rewarded by the wide smile and a relaxation of the younger man's tense muscles.

Temos laughed a little shakily, and freeing his hands gently, swung the knife and with one clean, swift, stroke, severed the golden cord still binding their left wrists together.

"We have no further need of the cord to remind us," he said simply. "My life is yours, I belong to you and your life is mine, you belong to me. We are truly bonded, my commander, forever."

Hadrian was almost afraid of the certainty in the youngster's voice, but decided to leave well alone. Neither of them knew what lay ahead, but while they could, they would enjoy every moment of their shared lives, and as he stretched his freed arm, before gathering Temos' into a warm embrace, he decided that enjoyment would continue right now.

~~~~~~~~~

March 1986  
(c) T. Roubles

PART II - FESTIVAL

In the sun-dappled courtyard of his town house in the capital city of Omeria, Hadrian smiled with tolerant affection at his young lover. Temos was talking rapidly, his gold-tanned face flushed and animated as he described his meeting with two men he'd met in the market place earlier that day.

The sun struck sparks of gold in the younger man's honey-blond hair, the long braid swinging as he moved about the paved area.

He was clad in a short, white, tunic edged with gold, a gold and ivory belt clasped his narrow waist, the armlet Hadrian had given to him as a bonding gift clasped the symmetrical curve of his bare right arm. Hadrian's vivid blue eyes followed every movement of the slim body, he never grew tired of watching his handsome lover, his body acutely aware of the lure the young man held for him, even after the year and a half since their first meeting.

A great deal had happened to them since that day in a far-off land.

After their bonding, they had continued as commander and pathfinder, traveling across the great sandy desert, searching for routes between the oasis for the Monarch, until a message had come for Hadrian. His uncle, Marcellus had died, leaving him the sole male heir to the family lands and Hadrian had decided to return to his place of birth to sort out the various legal entanglements.

He had been reluctant to leave; for in spite of the heat and dust and days of boring inactivity that the desert lands meant to a commander of one of the Monarch's elite troops, the dry lands had also been the place where he'd met his soul-mate and lover.

He had never regretted joining himself in law to the youthful barbarian, the mixture of tantalizing innocence and mystery that surrounded Temos kept Hadrian intrigued and his physical beauty kept him enthralled, as much as the rapier-sharp mind challenged and stimulated his own.

The commander had thought that Temos wouldn't want to make the long journey to Omeria, as it held mixed memories for the youngster.

Hadrian, also, hadn't known how his family would react to his bond-mate, not that he cared over much for what they thought, but he didn't want Temos to feel hurt or be subjected to any insulting behaviour. He had tried to explain that he had to go back to his home to sort out his inheritance, but that he would come back inside six months to stay by Temos' side forever. Temos had been very hurt and disappointed, his tentative suggestion to accompany Hadrian, hadn't been accepted.

A tiny frown crossed Hadrian's brow as his thoughts drifted back to that terrible day, remembering the hurt in the huge blue-green eyes, before the fringe of dark lashes had dropped to hide Temos' thoughts from him.

The young barbarian nodded silently when Hadrian told him he would be back, but it was clear he didn't believe his commander.

His voice choked, he asked his bond-mate's permission to leave, and walked out of the tent before Hadrian could make up his mind what to do to comfort him.

Hadrian was devastated when he realised that Temos was no longer in the camp, and no-one seemed to know his whereabouts. The older officers weren't keen to get involved in what may be a personal matter, and the younger ones were close-lipped and silent.

Unable to personally search every tent as he'd longed to do, he sent Bar-cus, while he returned to each and every place he and Temos had visited together: but everywhere he looked was empty of the vibrant youth he loved so dearly. Even the tree-shaded oasis where Hadrian had first proposed the bonding was deserted.

Hadrian had at last been driven to seek out Marcus, who steadfastly swore he didn’t know where his friend was, but there was something in those dark-brown eyes that made Hadrian aware he did know and also thought he caught a glimmer of triumph and satisfaction.

Taking the dark-haired scout into his confidence, he told him the truth about the message and the summons to come home, and that he'd wanted to spare Temos any unpleasantness from his family and colleagues.

"He is so different from anyone they've ever seen, Marcus, there are bound to be comments, and I don’t want him hurt."

The younger man's face had stayed expressionless, but he'd shifted uncomfortably under the blue gaze, pleading for his understanding and help.

"If you have any regard for me, Marcus, and the vows you took at the bonding, please tell me where he is. I can't leave here without seeing him, to explain..."

Hadrian's words trailed off, unable to continue.

Marcus studied him for what seemed hours to Hadrian’s tortured imagination, then he nodded slowly.

"Very well, Commander, I believe you mean that." He paused. "You talk of the vows at the Bonding, and you must realise that when Temos agreed to bond with you for life, it means exactly that - life. Wherever you go whatever you have to do, he wants to share it. He sees your refusal to let him come with you as a rejection of your vows." Marcus paused, "If I thought he'd be happier away from you, Commander, nothing you could say, or do to me would make me tell you his whereabouts..." He sighed, "But unfortunately, he's a stubborn little devil, and he'll just pine away, or try something suicidal, to try and make himself forget you."

He looked up at Hadrian, his dark eyes cold. "He's camped out in the clearing behind the one where you spent your bonding-night."

Hadrian's eyes lit up, and Marcus gave a twisted smile. "This time, Commander, try and use that common sense you have such a reputation of owning, because if you let him go this time, that will be the end."

Hadrian nodded slowly. "Thank you, Marcus. I won't insult you by saying I know how you feel, but I do thank you." He held out his hand, and after a slight hesitation Marcus took it.

Hadrian then turned and after making certain arrangements with Bar-cus, walked away from the camp, making sure that no-one was following him.

He approached the small clearing in the rock-strewn land cautiously. After all it was almost like stalking a wild creature, a beautiful, untamed creature, thought Hadrian with a sigh, remembering the nights of passion they'd shared under the stars since their bonding.

He found Temos in the shade cast by a huge boulder. His young life-partner was lying on the red cloak that belonged to Hadrian, flat on his stomach, head pillowed on his crossed forearms; he was dry-eyed, his grief too deep even for tears.

Hadrian's eyes caressed the supine figure lovingly. Temos' thick hair was unbound and flowed across his shoulders in wild disorder, the short leather tunic showing the twin curves of his buttocks and long firm thighs. Hadrian's heart quickened its beat as his memory reviewed those shapely curves, his hands almost felt the warm texture of the tanned skin and his loins pulsed at the remembered delight of sinking his manhood deeply between those same curves so many times since their bonding.

He sighed, almost inaudibly, but soft as the sound was, Temos heard it. With unbelievable speed, he turned and leaped gracefully to his feet, one hand already filled with a sword.

Hadrian raised his hands placatingly and smiled. Temos' eyes lit up in the split second of recognition, but darkened again with remembered bitterness. He half lowered the sword, but didn't sheathe it. He lifted his head proudly and stood waiting for Hadrian to speak.

"Temos, my love. Please let me explain."

Temos shrugged. "There's nothing to explain, Commander," he spoke abruptly. "A change of heart merits no explanation. A man can't help his feelings, if and when they change, it must be accepted. Your family in the city need you, family ties are important."

He hesitated, then added cuttingly, as another thought struck him. "Do not worry. I will make no demands on your estate or your name, it will be as though we had never met." The tone was bitter, but his voice quavered at his words and he swallowed hard, before lifting his stormy eyes to meet Hadrian's contrite and love-filled blue ones.

Hadrian paused, a trifle hurt that Temos would even think that mattered to him, then wondered just what Temos would do if he was left behind, so he couldn't help asking: "What will you do Temos?"

The darkened green gaze lowered and Temos shrugged. He didn't want to live without Hadrian, and as he couldn't live with his bond-mate - his ex-bond-mate - he didn't know the right words to dissolve the bonding, as far as he knew, there had never been a parting, except in death; he would just wait and see. In this hard land, danger was never far away, and if it didn't come, he would go out to meet it.

All this flashed through his mind, but he wouldn't blackmail Hadrian with his own life, and he couldn't lie convincingly enough to fool his Commander, so he remained silent.

Hadrian waited patiently, he knew this firey-tempered barbarian very well, and could guess at his solution to the problem. His heart almost failed him as he realised he could've been the cause of this youngster's death, if he hadn't remembered in time the words to the bonding: this bonding is to death, it can never be broken; any man who tries will forfeit his life.

Temos shifted nervously, he wanted to throw himself on Hadrian and beg him to take him home with him, but he was a warrior, and his pride would not allow him this shameful luxury.

"I will try and find a priest to dissolve the bonding, if that's what you wish, Commander," he said boldly, trying to ignore the despair that was filling his whole body.

Hadrian smiled inwardly, albeit a little anxiously. He knew what he had to do now, what he'd wanted to do ever since the news from the city had arrived, but had to ask: "Do you wish the bonding to be severed, Temos?"

He waited, half afraid that the answer might be yes..

Temos' eyes widened, "Oh no, I could never do that..."

His voice tailed off as he realised he'd made an error. Hadrian would now never believe that he would be free. He tried to explain, wondering why he was bothering. He was the one who had been rejected, why was he trying to ease Hadrian's conscience. Because I love him more than my life, was the simple explanation, and Temos acknowledged it, his inner despair gradually beginning to ease as he calmly accepted that fact.

"You need have no fear that I will hold you to the bonding ceremony. I'm sure there will be a way to break the bonding, and anyway," he shrugged. "The city is a long way off, the laws out here will not hold up there. So there is no cause for worry."

Hadrian frowned, beginning to get angry, although he could hardly blame his young lover for thinking the way he was.

"I never gave the legal situation a thought, Temos," he began gently enough, despite his mixed feelings of exasperation, anger and profound tenderness. "I want to take you home with me, though it's hardly my home now - yet my family's roots are there, but the life there is very different to here. Here, we can do what we please, when we please. Back in the city, people, my family, colleagues, even friends, will be watching you all the time. You're so different to anything they've ever seen, I didn't want you to be hurt, or feel an outcast."

He paused, seeing the doubt begin in Temos' shadowed eyes.

"You'd never feel hurt if I have anything to say about it, but I won't be at your side the whole time. Even as here, my duties will part us for a little time." He put out his hand, gently brushing the wind-blown hair from Temos’ brow. "I said what I thought was best for you, even though it would break my heart to leave you here. So much can happen in six months," he tried for a little humour, "you might even have found another to take my place...." he stopped at the blaze of fury in the large eye, obviously this was not time for humour. "Forgive me, Temos. I know you'd never do that."

There was a short silence, then Hadrian took a step closer, feeling relief as Temos sheathed the sword and stood looking up at him through the strands of fine gold which the breeze teased across his face.

"Will you come home with me, Temos?" Hadrian asked simply, cutting straight to the heart of the problem. "I love you, my barbarian. I can't be away from you even for a day without longing to see you, touch you...taste you..." He paused, awed by the blaze of joy that leaped into the emerald eyes. "Whatever the problems, we'll face them together."

Temos moved forward, throwing his arms around Hadrian, squeezing him tightly. "Oh Hadrian, I thought you didn't want me in your world, thought you might be ashamed of me, not wish your noble family to know about our..." He broke off, burying his head under Hadrian's chin, pressing so close that Hadrian could feel every bone, every warm curve of his slender form.

Hadrian stroked his hair tenderly, a weight lifting from his heart and mind. What a fool he'd been, to so nearly lose this love.

"I'll never cease to love you Temos, and I could never be ashamed of you. It's you I was thinking of, I didn't want you hurt, or insulted by idiots who don’t understand our way of life," he sighed, "but I seem to have hurt you more by trying not too, than anything my family, or so-called friends might say or do." He hugged Temos fiercely to him, lifting the younger man's chin to reach his mouth.

They kissed, eagerly. The trembling tongue yielding to his, made Hadrian groan with mingled delight and frustration as he pressed their bodies together, feeling the warm burgeoning flesh in his crotch struggle against his restraining garments.

Swiftly, he lowered them both to the ground, pushing Temos backwards to lie on the red cloak again, his hand sliding eagerly under the short tunic to stroke the smooth young thighs, then ease into his lover's crotch to squeeze the silken genitals and feel the hard lance pushing against his hand, seeking reassurance and satisfaction.

Within a few very short moments, Hadrian had his own and Temos' garments loose and pulled aside, to enable his pulsing sex to press into the soft-skinned belly and feel the younger man's cock thrusting and rubbing against his. Desperate in his eagerness to make amends for the heartbreak he'd caused his bond-mate, Hadrian's climax came suddenly, flooding their groins with his hot seed; then he bent his head to suck at the tasty flesh throbbing against his stroking hand, and soon had Temos crying out as he climaxed; his bond-mate greedily swallowing his cream.

Hadrian came back to the present, hearing Temos say "Hadrian, you're not listening to me..."

"I'm listening, my beloved," Hadrian said softly.

Temos blushed, Hadrian didn't usually use that name outside their own room. "What were you thinking about?" he asked curiously.

"Oh, just how much I love you...and need you...how glad that you came with me to the city," explained Hadrian.

Things hadn't been easy at first, Hadrian's family had been everything he'd dreaded. Curious, patronizing, making suggestions that Temos should really have his hair cut and if Hadrian really wanted a catamite to play with, there were plenty of them in the city, without bringing the boy all the way from his barbaric tribe.

Hadrian had been white with fury, but there was little he could do about the pointed remarks without actually challenging the speaker to a fight and his honour would not allow him to soil his blade with the blood of a civilian who didn't know one end of a sword from another, no matter how much the words provoked and angered him.

He had been surprised at how little it seemed to bother Temos, then remembered the younger man had spent his boyhood in Omeria and nothing about civilians surprised Temos; he refused to get angry and laughed Hadrian out of his rage more than once.

If on occasion, his sculptured lips tightened and his complexion grew a little pink, he kept those occasions to himself, and although Hadrian knew when he'd been hurt, he would never allow his bond-mate to do anything about it. With a wisdom beyond his tender years, Temos knew that an open breach with his family wouldn't do Hadrian's political, or military career, any good at all. Although Hadrian would have told the whole world to go to Hades, Temos kept a rein on his own and his lover's temper, telling Hadrian it was the patient hunter who eventually captured the choicest game, and he had been proved right in all the best senses.

Hadrian's family, most of them at least, grew to admire and respect the young man, and in a few instances even grew to love him. One of these was the elderly aunt on Hadrian's paternal side. She was an imperious, proud woman, yet with a formidable sense of fair play and compassion hidden beneath her waspish exterior.

Hadrian had taken Temos with him to visit by her royal command, and Temos, just by being himself, courteous, honest, knowledgeable on a lot of subjects and so full of common sense, the visit had turned from an ordeal into a family party, filled with laughter - the old lady seeing for herself how happy her nephew and his bond-mate were - their love each for the other showing through everything they said and did, all the more visible to her shrewd eyes because of its understated nature.

So with his Aunt Augusta firmly on his side, Hadrian had less and less trouble with the other relatives There were, of course, some of the family who still resented his coming home and bringing the little ‘catamite barbarian’ to disgrace them all. But in the face of the overwhelming liking Temos was inspiring in almost all who came in contact with him, they kept their evil gossip to themselves, only talking about the couple to the dwindling circle who thought as they did.

Temos flushed at Hadrian's low words, but came and sat down on the cushions spread out on the low couch on which his lover lazily reclined.

He leaned down and kissed Hadrian gently on the mouth murmuring softly, "I'm very glad you allowed me to come with you too. I don't think I could bear to be parted from you now."

He started to sit up, flushing again at his own lack of control, he never wanted to make Hadrian feel threatened, or forced to continue the relationship for fear of what Temos might do; but he couldn't help himself. In the face of the older man's sincerity, Temos just had to respond in kind. He didn't get a chance to wriggle off the couch before two muscular arms had captured him and pulled him down to lie firmly held against Hadrian's chest. His lover's mouth found his and Temos sighed in contented pleasure as he willingly opened his lips further allowing Hadrian's masterful tongue to take possession of his, wriggling slightly to get comfortable as his bond-mate's hands roamed through his hair and down his back, slipping under the short tunic to caress the bare skin of his thighs and buttocks.

Whether it was his own looking back, remembering how he'd felt when he'd first laid eyes on Temos, or the younger man's sensual wriggling as he made himself comfortable, or just because he loved him so much, Hadrian felt his desire rise and tightened his embrace, his tongue delving even more fiercely between the welcoming lips. His hand loosened the thick braid allowing the satin curtain of blond hair to cascade about both their heads, while his other hand tugged at the silk thong which confined the generous bulge of his lover's genitals, wanting to feel the warm, naked skin against his own.

"Hadrian?" Temos muttered softly against his mate's demanding mouth "Hadrian..?"

Hadrian lifted his mouth for a brief moment, "Yes, my love?"

Temos' face was bright and shining, the love in his blue-green eyes making Hadrian want to weep for joy and shout to the sun-baked roof tops that he would always love this tantalizing, unpredictable youngster, no matter how many others tried to part them.

He would fight the whole of Monarch's army to keep Temos by his side. He did not need to ask if Temos felt the same, everything the younger man did spoke of his love and devotion to the commander, even to putting up with his family and relatives' sneers and remarks and downright rudeness.

Temos smiled at the expression of desire and love which blazed in Hadrian's eyes and features. "Nothing, it will wait."

With that he lowered his head to kiss Hadrian again, his hair sweeping down across his bare shoulders as Hadrian tugged at the neck of the tunic. Temos eased up onto his knees and loosened his belt allowing Hadrian to pull the tunic over his head.

Hadrian sighed, his tongue flicking over suddenly dry lips as his bond-mate's beautiful body was exposed to his ardent gaze. The tiny white silk pouch soon fell to his exploring fingers, and he lay for a moment admiring the sunlight gleaming on the golden bronzed skin and the way the heavy waves of hair framed the laughing, handsome face.

Hadrian unbuckled his own belt and sat up to pull off his own tunic, Temos watching him with a smile of anticipation.

As soon as he was free of clothing restrictions Hadrian pulled Temos down onto the couch rolling them both sideways, his hands sweeping down Temos' back and over the curve of hip and thigh, as he nibbled and kissed his way over his lover's face and neck, hearing Temos gasp as he circled one tiny nipple with a warm damp tongue, feeling the slim body arch into him and the growing bulge pressing against his belly.

He flung one leg over Temos' hip thrusting his already erecting cock into the other's hardening flesh. The fingers of one hand pressed between the soft, velvet cheeks of Temos' buttocks, finding the hot entrance to his mate's body and pushing eagerly, but tenderly inside, forcing another moan of pleasure from his lover and the arching of the slender hips even further between his own legs. The willing response triggered his climax, which had been building for some time now, as he'd watched and thought about his young lover, and the gushing of his release bathed both their bodies in warm cream.

For long moments, Hadrian's body shuddered in the throes of his orgasm, and Temos held him, stroking and soothing, feeling faintly astonished at the rapid outcome of his loving welcome.

When at last Hadrian lay panting in the circle of the strong young arms, he felt as though he never wanted to move from their shelter.

The growing hardness pressing into his groin, however, reminded him that Temos' need had yet to be satisfied, and he lifted his head and kissed Temos on the mouth before shifting slightly so he could bring the younger man to his climax. This was accomplished with very little effort, for even as a second finger joined the first inside him and Hadrian's mouth tugged at his peaked nipples, Temos flung his head back and cried aloud his love as his slender body arched further and his manhood pulsed and throbbed harder and harder until it spilt warm semen over Hadrian's stomach, even as the spasms were beginning to fade, Temos cried out again as Hadrian's mouth captured the cream covered shaft and sucked him to a fresh orgasm which left them both gasping and satiated.

Hadrian gathered the still quivering body into his arms and settled them both comfortably on their sides, Temos' head resting on his upper chest, face hidden by the curtain of his hair; their legs entwined, the soft dampness of their genitals gently touching.

Hadrian stroked the silken mane slowly, contentedly; this was where he loved to be, whatever their geographic location, as long as he was no more than an arm's length from his beloved, he would be forever content.

Temos almost purred in his lazy pleasure, the touch of the strong hand on his hair, the soothing strokes, the strong muscular body supporting his own and the muted sensuality of their maleness touching, but not demanding, made the aftermath of their physical joining just that little extra special. He could feel the sun's rays warming his outer skin, but it was nothing to the fire that had raged within him, within them both.

He just wanted to lie here, safe and secure in Hadrian's arms, without having to think of what to do at the next family gathering, or when some more of Hadrian's 'friends' called around to see him 'on business', although Temos knew that in reality they were calling to see him, see if he had changed, and more to the point, whether he had changed Hadrian.

Temos sighed and shook his head mentally, when would they understand he didn't want to change Hadrian, and his mate had told him more than once he didn't want Temos to change either.

He had even offered to have his hair cut in the latest fashion, if his bond-mate wished.

Hadrian had frowned. "Do you want to cut it?" he'd asked in a quiet, toneless voice.

Temos had hesitated, then honesty compelling him to tell the truth, had shook his head, flushing faintly.

"Not really. Sometimes, when it is very, very, hot, I wish it was cropped, but only sometimes. I just thought if you wanted me to cut it, if you thought it best..."

He'd stopped at the flash of anger that darkened his mate's vivid blue eyes and Hadrian had taken the anxious, young face between his palms and studied the features long and hard, then said softly.

"Temos, I love you, just the way you are. I'll never grow tired of you, or ashamed of you, the only way you could make me ashamed is by behaving out of your own character, doing things just because others think you should. Understand?" and he'd given the slighter figure a little shake. "If you want to cut your hair, I would regret it, because I love to see it in all its aspects, braided or flying free, but I would accept it, if you wanted a change. But never, ever, let so-called friends or relatives of mine, persuade you to do something you'll regret later."

Temos had rewarded this honesty with a kiss of such sweetness, they'd ended up on the nearest couch and had been late for the evening meal with Aunt Augusta, for which Temos had apologised profusely, and athletically, and had ended in the elderly lady smiling at his antics, and forgiving him, as she usually did.

"That sun is burning your beautiful pelt," remarked Hadrian sleepily. "Shall we go inside?"

The words, breaking into Temos' reverie, made him stretch and yawn, then snuggle back into his lover's arms. "Too lazy..." he murmured, kissing Hadrian's chest.

Hadrian smiled, he too felt pleasurable lazy and disinclined to move, but he knew by the position of the sun against the white wall, they would soon be called for the noon meal, and they didn't make a habit of flaunting their physical love to the servants or any of their acquaintances.

"Come on lazybones," he smiled, managing to sit up even with the weight of Temos on his chest.

"Hmm," Temos made no attempt to move and with a chuckle, Hadrian swung his legs off the couch, scattering cushions to the sun-baked tiles and stood up, lifting his mate into his arms.

As he headed for the shade of the house, Temos flung both arms around his neck and busied himself kissing Hadrian's neck and shoulder as he was carried through to the coolness of their bedroom. Hadrian knelt on the side of the wide bed and lowered his lover onto the silk coverlet, going willingly down at Temos' insistent pulling.

He lay astride his young bond-mate and returned the kisses with increasing heat, until they were both aroused and panting with desire.

"Love you..." panted Temos, "need you... Hadrian..."

He reached down between them to grasp the hardening flesh pushing into his belly. Hadrian groaned as the caressing fingers urged him on to find release. He eased himself upright and reached for a cushion with one hand, while he pulled Temos' legs wider apart and knelt between them, positioning the cushion under the firm hips, lifting his lover's lower body for ease of penetration.

He wanted to take Temos, take his love and passion right inside the delightful form lying open for him and realised with a thrill of lust that Temos wanted him this way too.

Smiling widely, a hungry glint in his eyes, Temos wickedly lifted his long legs to wind around Hadrian's waist, opening his body even further for his lover.

Mesmerised by the bewitching blue-green eyes which darkened slowly to a shade of midnight-blue, Hadrian reached for the small jar of scented balm which lay on the little table beside the bed. He always used this on Temos, being extra careful not to stretch the tight opening further than necessary for their pleasure. He had never taken him dry, or hurt him, apart from the first time he'd taken his mate's virgin flesh, but that pain had been swamped in Temos' ardent response to his more experienced bond mate's gentle and expert loving, and each time it had been easier as Temos grew more used to the invasion of his flesh, and actively welcomed Hadrian's body in whatever mood, gentle; urgent; demanding, but always with an underlying tenderness.

Now Temos' eyes grew larger and more lustrous as Hadrian's gentle fingers eased inside him and slowly prepared him to accept the hard shaft now throbbing visibly between his muscular thighs.

Temos reached up for his lover's shoulders and Hadrian leant forward, still massaging the tight entrance to the secret delights he would soon be exploring.

Temos' mouth pressed light, teasing kisses all over Hadrian's intent face, sending his pulse racing in a faster rhythm.

Not being able to wait much longer, Hadrian withdrew his damp fingers and grasping the lean thighs pushed Temos' legs upwards and outwards, positioning himself carefully before letting his hands slide around to cup the taut buttocks. He edged the questing, head of his penis into the tight opening and pressed gently, waiting as the younger man's body adapted to his bulk, before pressing further into the tight passage.

Temos sighed and lifted his hips under each thrust, as Hadrian sank lower he lifted his legs to lie across the smooth, broad, sweat-dampened shoulders. Pausing for a moment as his manhood was finally sheathed wholly inside his mate, Hadrian leaned forward slowly and kissed the parted lips, slipping his tongue inside to tease the roof of Temos' mouth, making the younger man moan in frustrated pleasure at that touch and the tantalizing caress of Hadrian's strong fingers as they curled around his hardening cock.

The younger man lifted his hips again, seeking to impale himself further on the thick pillar of flesh lodged so firmly within him, but was unable to gain even another tiny portion so fully was Hadrian sheathed in him, his lover's swollen scrotum pressing into the inner curves of his buttocks.

"Have a little patience," murmured Hadrian breathlessly, his eyes closing at the erotic writhing against his sensitive flesh.

"Don't want patience," panted Temos, "want you, Hadrian - all of you. Now."

He couldn't understand why he felt so demanding, they made love as frequently as they both desired, but Temos suddenly needed Hadrian to show him how much he was loved, his lover's touch arousing him so completely it was frightening in its intensity. He could now understand the occasions when Hadrian had seemed so desperate to take him, show him his love; understood and felt enormous pleasure in the fact that Hadrian loved him equally as much and as desperately as Temos loved his commander, bond-mate and friend.

Temos moaned erotically, dark lashes falling to shade his brilliant eyes as Hadrian began to move inside him, swelling and pulsing; his eyes flew open in protest as Hadrian eased himself upright, withdrawing almost completely from the firm young flesh, then a cry burst from Temos' lips as his mate bent forward, thrusting himself deep within him again; a second time Hadrian withdrew, then reentered his lover, burying himself deeper and faster until with a hoarse shout of satisfaction, he climaxed; faster and faster he pumped his seed into his lover seeking to explore ever deeper until he could reach no further into the irresistible, sensual body, he knew was irrevocably his. Even when the scalding flood had ebbed, his erection was still hard and eager, filling Temos with erotic sensations of equal delight and exquisite torture.

Hadrian paused, panting with his efforts, reluctant to withdraw completely from his passion-filled sheath, the fingers of one hand tracing Temos' eyebrow and down the finely chiseled nose to outline each trembling lip.

Temos arched his body again, kissing the shaking fingers, both arms flung out across the bed, hands clenched, his hair flowing across the dark blue cover like a stream of molten gold.

"Ah, Temos, my love..." sighed Hadrian brokenly, his heart melting at the open, vulnerability so evident by the posture.

His other hand stroked down the slim golden body to capture the damp shaft which had spilled warm cream over them both in the last few minutes, but like his own, was already hardening again.

Temos caught his lip between his teeth, as his mate's hand stroked and petted his aching flesh, wanting the delightful torture to continue, but also wanting his release. "Hadrian... please… don't stop.. .touch me.. .kiss me..."

The words were muffled as Hadrian stretched cautiously to reach his demanding mouth, the movement sending his shaft pulsing again, causing Temos to moan softly.

Hadrian felt the swelling of the lusty shaft in his caressing fingers and proceeded to tease the erecting flesh until it exploded a stream of warm liquid creamy liquid over his hand.

The responsive cry and jerking of the lithe body trapped under his, caused his own climax to build again and Temos clutched the silk sheet convulsively as his lover's manhood drove into the centre of his being again, finding and teasing every crevice, filling him with the scalding, sweet, evidence of his desire and his love.

At last Hadrian slumped down to lie between his lover's long, trembling legs, the softened bulk in Temos' crotch pressing damply against his belly, while his own still lay quietly encased between the firm globes of the neat little ass which housed such extremes of delight and fantasy.

After a little while Hadrian rolled sideways to take his weight from his equally exhausted lover and they lay clasped in each others' arms, catching their breath, soft whimperings of pleasure occasionally breaking from Temos' parted lips, while Hadrian murmured broken words of love and tenderness into his receptive ear.

An hour later, sitting sprawled at the low table, Temos licked his fingers elegantly and sighed happily.

Hadrian smiled at him in amusement, clad in a loose white robe which persisted in slipping down over one golden shoulder, his bond-mate made an engaging portrait as he rinsed his fingers after peeling an orange.

He felt relaxed and happy, and from the beaming smile which Temos threw him at every opportunity bespoke his lover's own contentment and satisfaction.

"I think you were going to tell me something earlier, before we … er, lost our way," Hadrian laughed happily, as Temos flushed a bright and becoming pink.

"I would say you found your way quite nicely, Commander..." and Temos laughed in his turn as the older man flushed.

They were both so happy and at ease with each other, the teasing was gentle and tender.

"I can't remember," began Temos, then interrupted himself. "Oh, yes, I do. Do you remember those two men we met at your Uncle Claudio's house? Well I saw them this morning and they invited me to celebrate the Festival with them tonight."

Not noticing Hadrian's suddenly tense shoulders, he prattled on, "I didn't think they'd remember me, but they mentioned that evening and said how glad I'd make them if I consented to share the evening's festivities.” He paused, “they have such a curious way of speech, don't you think?” Without waiting for a reply, he went on. “Anyway, I said it might be interesting and agreed to meet them in the Gladiator Park two hours after sundown, if you hadn't made any plans.”

At last becoming aware of the silence on the other side of the table, Temos raised his head. “Hadrian?”

The older man's eyes were lowered, his happiness clouded by the sudden turn of the conversation, but as a gentle hand came down on his shoulder and an anxious voice queried, “Hadrian… are you unwell?” he raised his eyes to meet troubled blue-green ones.

Seeing the troubled features, Hadrian relaxed, chiding himself for his sudden jealousy. It was obvious that Temos hadn't understood the implications of the invitation, but his fury grew at the barefaced attempt by two casual acquaintances to intrude upon their happy family life. Hadrian knew only too well, what that sort of invitation meant, especially on a festive occasion such as was about to descend on the inhabitants of the city.

The festival celebrating the god of wine, was well-known for the drunken revelry, and the random coupling of men and women with anyone they desired, on their wanderings around the parks of the city; pairings not limited to men and women, but couples and sometimes more than two of the same sex.

The younger, and some older, inhabitants of Omeria, abandoned all their moral and civic responsibilities in their quest for new and more stimulating experiences.

Hadrian had arranged for a few of his closest friends to celebrate the festival and while he knew the wine would flow freely, they were close enough friends to mind their manners, and as long as he kept one weather eye upon them, he knew that Temos would be safe enough with them, or as safe as he could be, on such an evening, given his stunning looks.

He raised a smile, realising that he didn't want to spoil Temos’ day by forbidding any contact with the two men, or by explaining their intent. He had no proof as yet, but he didn’t really need any. Those two particular men had reputations well deserved, and neither of them had any morals at all.

He would find a way later to explain to Temos why he'd rather he didn't meet with the two men, but for now said: “Yes, my love, they do have a curious way of speaking and they don't always mean what they say. It's just a disguise for what they really want, but are too cowardly, or have too much sense, I'm not sure which, to say it aloud.”

By now Temos was confused. He was glad Hadrian wasn't angry with him, but something had upset his bond-mate.

“I don't quite understand Hadrian, do you mean I should avoid these men?”

Hadrian wanted to shout "Yes!" But cautious as ever of seeming to restrict his lover in any way, merely said, “I think you should be careful of them, yes. But in my company or Uncle Claudio's you shouldn't have any trouble with them.”

He meant to elaborate, but just then a servant entered the room bearing a message from Hadrian's senator friend. “I'll have to go and see him at once,” he sighed, nodding to the servant who left the room.

Hadrian climbed slowly to his feet, his body still resounding with echoes of his recent multiple climaxes, and stretched.

“Shall I come with you?” asked Temos, also rising and came around the table to stand in front of his lover, hitching up the loose robe as it started its downward slide again.

Hadrian reached out a hand and gently settled the robe across the half bared shoulders, “No, it will be boring for you, he just wants some legal advice and I happen to have experience of the sort of tangle he's trying to unravel."

He bent and, kissed Temos tenderly on the mouth, sighing with delight as two warm arms wound themselves tightly around his neck.

“You'd better stay here, just in case we have visitors, or would you like to go to see Augusta? She loves you to visit.”

Temos sighed brushing his mouth against Hadrian's cheek. “I think I may as well. I don't like having you away from me, but I like Aunt Augusta.”

Hadrian ran his hand through the tangled mane of fair hair and clutching a handful, shook Temos' head gently.

“All right. I'll come there and collect you in about two hours.” He paused, then added with a grin. “Please don't make her laugh too much, or she'll get the hiccups again.”

Temos snorted, then was too busy responding to Hadrian's passionate farewell kiss to speak.

Hadrian at long last managed to drag himself away from the tempting mouth and seductive body to get dressed and soon after, left his house.

As Temos and Augusta sat in the late afternoon sunshine, a messenger arrived to say that Hadrian had been delayed and would meet Temos at Claudio's instead of his Aunt 's house at sundown.

Wanting to bathe and change clothes, Temos bade an affectionate farewell of the elderly lady and set off for his own lodgings.

Smiling happily to himself as he anticipated the evening’s entertainment ahead, Temos made a striking figure as he strode leisurely through the streets, the sun striking sparks of gold from his heavy mane of hair, now tightly bound in a supple leather band. His long bare legs gleaming golden brown under the short white tunic. His head held high, the sensuous lips parting in a secret smile that made the passing people stare and sigh, wondering what thoughts were passing through the beautiful golden head, and sending many a lustful thought through their own, male and female alike.

Upon reaching home, Temos called for a bath to be prepared and went to the room he shared with Hadrian, removing his clothes as he moved around the airy room until he stood naked in the arch of the window, looking out onto the quiet, secluded gardens.

A quiet knock on the outer door, sent him reaching for his robe, which he donned before calling for the servant to enter.

Two of the men servants carried in the bronze containers full of steaming water and carried them through to the sunken bath in the adjoining room, while the buxom maid servant, carried a pile of fresh towels and linen.

Temos wandered through to the bathing area and stood watching the servants prepare his bath, his mind preoccupied and oblivious to the flirtatious looks from the girl.

He blinked as the older servant asked, "Will that be all, sir?" and he smiled at them all impartially, thanking them for their assistance as he dismissed them.

They went without another word. They had been wary of this strange barbarian when their master had brought him here to live, but gradually, their liking and respect for the young soldier had grown and they served him as loyally as they did Hadrian. Notwithstanding that, the younger servants would often try to catch his eye, they were curious and also desired the lithe golden body and handsome face, wanting to get to know him a lot better and a lot closer.

Temos however, never by so much as a look or word, gave them any encouragement, he was quite aware of the hints and sighs of the girls and the younger men, but he was careful never to give Hadrian even a moment's disquiet by flirting with them. He was always careful to have a robe or shawl over his shoulders if he was naked underneath, whether Hadrian was there or not, and so far, none of the servants' fantasies had come even close to becoming fact.

Waiting until they were all outside, Temos shrugged off the robe and stepped into the sunken bath, sighing with relief as the hot water soothed the sweat and dust from his body.

An hour later he was standing in front of the burnished copper mirror, checking his appearance before setting out for the house of Uncle Claudio.

He had braided his hair and it was now wound round his shapely skull, leaving his long neck bare, the two thick braids fastened as flat to his head as possible, with ivory pins. He wore a pale green tunic which reached halfway down his thighs, caught round his waist with a silver belt studded with emeralds. A cloak of darker green velvet completed the outfit, slung over his shoulders, leaving his legs bare from the knees down to his sandalled feet.

The straps of the leather sandals were studded with small silver stars and Temos laughed to himself as he thought of Hadrian's expression when he’d first seen these clothes, they were far more flamboyant than he usually wore, but after all, it was supposed to be a party and in the darkness, his hair would appear as short as the current style.

Giving his reflection a smiling wink, he moved towards the front door. Passing the servant on duty he bade him a cheery Good evening, and told the older man where he was going. He had got into this habit early on, after Hadrian had returned one day to find him missing. He'd only gone to explore his new surroundings, but his commander had been very worried, and although Hadrian had never insisted on knowing where he was, Temos, out of the great love he bore his bond-mate, always left a message where he was going and when he would be coming back.

Hadrian never told him how much easier it made him feel, that his young bond-mate would bother to remember.

Temos made his way through the crowded streets until he came in sight of Claudio's house, lit up with many lanterns, as were the spacious gardens, and from the sound of laughter and shouts, everyone was getting into the party mood early.

At the gate, Temos hesitated, he didn't know whether to go into the house, or the garden. As he was making up his mind, the two men who had invited him to the festivities, came out of the shadows and called to him.

Temos smiled slightly at their greeting, Hadrian's warning sounding in his ears. He didn't know why Hadrian mistrusted these men, but the fact he did, gave Temos pause for thought.

"Are you just going, or coming?" called the shorter of the two, sending his companion into a gale of laughter.

Temos’ smile faded, he had the impression they were laughing at him and he didn't understand the meaning behind the words, or the laughter.

He shrugged, saying simply. "Going in to meet Hadrian, if you'll excuse me." He tried to pass them, but they stepped in front of him.

"Please, Temos, don't mind Sergio here, he's drunk," said the first speaker.

"I am not drunk," Sergio said with great gravity, drawing himself up to his full height, just topping Temos’ blond head, then spoiled the effect by laughing as he tripped over the edge of his trailing cloak and clutched at Temos’ shoulder to steady himself.

Temos stiffened under the hand and after steadying the man, drew back slightly, not missing the warning look Sergio’s companion gave him.

"Are you coming to celebrate the festival with us, Temos? You said you might," he said, smiling widely at the uncomfortable youth.

Temos hesitated. "I don't know, Hadrian has something arranged..." he said vaguely, inching back towards the gateway.

Sergio moved forward, but his companion caught his arm. "That's all right then, maybe we'll see you both later tonight. We'll be in the Park until quite late. Farewell for now, Temos, Happy Festival..."

He dragged his protesting companion away, snarling something under his breath.

Temos heaved a sigh of relief and moved to the gateway, noticing that a group of Claudio's friends were standing there, unaware they had been watching the meeting with curious eyes. They smiled a greeting at Temos, and accompanied him inside.

After greeting his host, Temos moved around the garden, searching for someone he knew to talk to, Claudio having told him that Hadrian had not yet arrived.

Seeing a couple of younger men he'd met before, he joined the small group, and was soon talking and laughing with the friendly pair, his goblet kept full by an attentive servant.

In a break in the conversation, Temos saw the young men eyeing his clothes, and flushed a little, but was reassured when the dark-haired one spoke admiringly. "I do admire that colour on you, Temos, it suits you very well."

His friend nodded, but added, "I like it, but much prefer that white and gold tunic you wore last time, it enhances the colour of your hair..."

"But the green enhances the colour of his eyes, Marc," protested his companion.

Arguing amicably, they moved to a bench and sat down, with Temos moving slowly after them, wondering how two such fit young men could talk of nothing but clothes and the latest fashions. He was getting bored and lonely. Hadrian still hadn't arrived.

Excusing himself, he went to check with a door servant, but Hadrian still hadn't arrived. Turning away, he was accosted by a laughing, shouting group, who swept him up, and before he knew it, he was outside the gate and caught in the middle of the group. Linking arms, the laughing leader kept him anchored to his side, and rather than cause an upset, Temos went along, meaning to slip away at the first opportunity.

The group came to the Park and started to split up into twos and threes, the drunken leader hanging onto Temos’ arm and shoulder, breathing potent fumes of wine into the youth's face.

Trying to avoid the other's breath and clinging arms, Temos jumped as hard fingers pinched the firm globes of his buttocks, and with that, he’d had enough. With a lithe twist he evaded the confining arms and ran a few yards into the darkness, ignoring the yells and entreaties to come back and see what a good time he'd have.

Breathing slightly harder then before, Temos paused to straighten his clothes and push back his hair which was beginning to tumble over his forehead.

As he walked back towards the gate, two shadows walked behind him, catching his arms and swinging him round. "Hey, Temos, glad you changed your mind. Come with us and celebrate the festival..."

Temos shook his head, "No, thank you," he said politely. "I have to get back."

"Back? Back where, to your...er… commander...eh?" Sergio sniggered.

Philo shushed his friend, "Sergio, now that's no way to talk of the great leader." He leaned closer to Temos, his hands digging into the firm arm muscles. "What is it like, being…what'd you call it? Bonded, with a great leader and commander like Hadrian? Is he commanding? Does he command you to submit to him? Or does he lead you by the...er hand..." he leered, "lead you into the right pathways?"

Philo laughed as Sergio shouted with delight. "I bet those pathways are strewn with gold. I'd like to see your pathways, Temos. All that gold in your hair...and your skin...gold and rosy, I'll wager." He swayed drunkenly as he leaned closer to the appalled youth. "I want to see you all rosy and hard...want to feel your warm little buttocks...split them in twain with my shaft...fill you up with it...and taste yours..."

He turned to his friend, ignoring the horrified expression and tenseness of their captive, "Would you like that, Philo?"

Philo nodded, watching the tanned features of the young soldier with interest. "Yes, my friend, but I'd also like to feel that gorgeous mouth, taste his tongue. I bet he could take me to paradise with that mouth. Just think of it, Sergio, those lovely, sensuous lips around your cock, sucking you to ecstasy! While you explored his secret valley with yours, I could taste him."

Temos pulled away with an angry jerk and stepped back, his fists clenched.

"Shut your disgusting mouths," he cried, his face flushing with embarrassment. Never had he heard such vile suggestions to his face, and having been around military establishments, he was no stranger to rough talk and rough play, but this, in the midst of so-called polite society shocked him. The fact that his bond-mate was being sneered at, also filled him with an all consuming rage.

"Oh, come now, boy, don't tell us you've never heard such talk before? I bet you've had many an invitation too share your delightful body with others." Philo leered, then asked quite seriously, "The only thing I'm not sure about, is how many of Hadrian's friends have had a share?"

Temos almost stuttered in his rage. "None," he cried, then closed his mouth, remembering that their private life was no business of these two...two...fornicators.

Taking a deep breath, he regained control, and gave the two would-be seducers a brilliant smile, making them pause in astonishment.

"Besides which, you actually think that anybody, and I mean any person in this whole city could hold a candle to Hadrian?" He raised an eyebrow, "There's not one man amongst your so called society that has even a tiny portion of his integrity, courage and intelligence." He threw his head back proudly. "I am honoured to be his bond-mate, with everything that word implies."

He stepped back, waving a dismissive hand. "Now, get about your petty business, go try and seduce some innocent who is too stupid, or too easygoing to care about the smell, or the character of his bed-mates, because no-one with an ounce of intelligence would choose either of you unless he was desperate for company."

Temos smiled again at the expressions of sullen rage that filled both countenances and turned away, convinced he had nothing further to fear from the two of them, which was a serious error. For although he had their measure in some things, he didn’t realise just how desperate they were to make a conquest of the strange young warrior, brought into their midst by one of their own countrymen.

A glance at each other, suddenly sobered by the tongue lashing from the much younger and less sophisticated man, the pair moved after Temos, and springing on him from behind caught his arms and forced them behind his back.

Taken a little by surprise, his hunter's instincts on hold, although never entirely subdued, Temos struggled to free himself, but anger and frustration had given the two men strength they never realised they had, and they wrestled the youngster into the nearby shrubbery. A nearby laughing jostling throng of young men and women whooped them on, thinking it was some sort of play-acting.

Luckily for Temos, another shadowy figure had watched the little scene and now followed after them.

Temos would have been extremely happy to see this lone figure, for it was Hadrian, his bond-mate and commander.

Having got to his Uncle's house a lot later than he anticipated, Hadrian had searched for Temos in the jostling crowd, not being too alarmed, as the servant had told him his young bond-mate was somewhere in the garden. It wasn't until a friend of Claudio's had staggered into him, that he realised something was wrong. The friend had thanked him profusely and as Hadrian had helped him to a seat, had stated with drunken clarity that he was surprised Hadrian had allowed such a handsome piece of goods out of his sight.

Alerted by the leer in the other's voice, Hadrian had questioned him carefully and what he heard sent his blood surging with rage.

His drunken companion had told him that the indolent, greedy, couple known to society as Philo and Sergio had wagered with a few of their own kind, that they would be the only ones outside of the commander's house to seduce and take their pleasure from the young barbarian's body, a sizeable sum was involved, as even their own kind had been dubious of their success.

They’d boasted it would happen during the Festival, so no one would be called to account, thus covering their tracks in case the commander's bond-mate turned awkward and wouldn't succumb to their demands, although the pair intended to take him, willing or not.

In this ploy, they showed a shrewd judge of character, as being civilians and unused to combat, they were gambling on Hadrian being too high-principled to take revenge on them by dueling, or other physical means.

Hadrian smiled grimly, they didn't know him as well as they thought. If they hurt Temos, he would have no compunction in teaching them a hard lesson, but as he also had great faith in his lover’s ability to take care of himself, he probably wouldn’t have to lift a finger, his bond-mate would do all that was necessary, if he was able, and if not?

No, he wouldn't think of that. Life without Temos would be meaningless and he wouldn't care about his honour then. Philo and Sergio would pay the ultimate price for their treachery and lust.

Upon further investigation, he found a servant who had seen Temos caught up in the group of revelers heading for the Park, and had searched for his lover, catching up with the group as they'd split up to go to their separate assignations. He had been about to stroll out as though unworried and greet Temos when the would-be-seducers had caught him.

Not wanting to make Temos think he didn’t trust him, Hadrian was slowly approaching and heard much of the filth poured out into his youthful mate's ears.

Almost speechless with fury, he’d started towards them, then his rage cooled considerably as he heard the declaration of devotion from his lover. Although knowing he was special to Temos, that forthright comment eased his jealousy a whole lot, and he felt proud and elated to hear Temos speak so directly and so determinedly of his love and affection for his commander. Hadrian realised that the blond barbarian's love for him was equally matched by his own for his young lover.

As the pair had hustled the protesting youth into the bushes, Hadrian followed with a quiet stealthy tread.

Waiting until his eyes became accustomed to the dimmer light filtering through the treetops, he heard a cry of agony and then loud cursing, so moved in that direction.

He found the man he knew as Sergio, kneeling on the ground, hands clutched between his legs, moaning that the young barbarian had crippled him and had ruined his sex life for ever.

Serves you right, thought Hadrian, smiling grimly. It looked as though Temos didn't need his help after all. He faded away into the trees again, searching for the others.

Hearing a faint rustle, he looked to his left and in a patch of moonlight in a tiny clearing, caught a flash of green and gold, and smiled as he recognized the unbound mane of hair floating behind his lover's head. Reaching the spot, he saw a patch of yellow on a low branch, and picking it off, held a chunk of silky hair in his hand.

That was one problem with these trees and the length of his lover's hair, he thought, wincing in sympathy with the pain the forcibly removed hair would have caused Temos.

Following the shadowy figure, he came upon an opening in the trees, a pathway meandered around to his left and right, and on the edge of the pathway, two figures were struggling. He heard Philo's panted curses as he fought to contain the fighting bunch of steel muscles.

Although shorter than Temos, Philo was a good deal heavier, and the goddess of luck seemed to be on his side. As he pushed Temos backwards, the youth stumbled on a tree root and went down on his back. Philo wasted no time in congratulating himself, but flung himself down, his bulky body thudding on top of Temos' slim form, forcing a grunt of pain from the younger man. Philo's hand reached out, grabbing a handful of the long blond hair. and held Temos' head firmly.

"Now..." he muttered, shifting his weight, grinding his hips into Temos’ pelvis. "I'll have a taste of those lips." His mouth came down hard on that of his captive, ignoring the hands pushing at his shoulders.

Winded by the unexpected fall and the considerable weight of his opponent on his chest and legs, Temos fought for breath, unable for the moment to resist the exploring hand and greedy mouth as they both sought to invade the intimate openings of his body.

Closing his mouth against the penetrating tongue, he pushed more strongly at Philo, and heaved with his hips, trying to free himself from the swelling bulge forcing between his thighs.

Philo moaned in frustration, his other hand clutching Temos’ left buttock, nails digging into the smooth curve, unable to proceed any further with his assault due to the spirited resistance from his victim.

Just as Hadrian reached the struggling pair, Temos managed to raise one knee and pushed Philo away, gaining a moment’s respite from the weight, but still secured by the grip on his hair. Now able to get one foot between him and his attacker, Temos kicked out again, catching Philo in the chest and flung the pudgy man backwards to land on his ample backside, ignoring the pain from the handful of hair torn from his scalp.

Rolling quickly to his knees, Temos swung a hard fist into Phil's face, sending the older man sprawling, blood pouring from his nose.

Getting to his feet, breathing heavily, Temos leaned over his now sobbing, would-be ravisher. "I said, I didn’t wish to join you," the youth hissed menacingly. "Now do you believe me?"

Philo nodded fearfully, feeling the blood pouring from his nose, he and Sergio hadn’t bargained on this much trouble. In the past, they’d usually been able to subdue any resistance from the young and frightened citizens they’d picked out for their amusement and pleasure.

"Good," said Temos, running a hand through his hair, wincing as he felt it tug at the sore place. "Lucky for you these clothes are new, and I don’t want them messed up any further, or I think you’d be crawling home with your tail between your legs, literally," he declared, shrugging his cloak back into position over his shoulders.

Philo’s eyes widened at the implication, forgetting his broken nose for another more serious threat. "You...you...wouldn’t?" he stuttered, realising for the first time that this was no civilised man standing over him.

He and his friends had mockingly referred to Temos as ‘the barbarian’, now he knew what it actually meant in this instance. Someone who was untamed and lacking in all the subtle niceties of his own world; this wasn’t a city youth, afraid of them and of being found out by old-fashioned parents. This was a man in all his untamable glory, a warrior used to fighting for his life in dangerous lands; to Temos, he and Sergio were no more than insects to be squashed under his new sandals.

A new voice broke into the conversation. "Oh yes, he would," said Hadrian in a level tone. "In fact, your accomplice back there, has found out in painful detail, that it isn’t wise to tangle with my young friend here."

Temos whirled, his hair and cloak flying in a graceful arc, ready for further defence, then relaxed as he saw his commander leaning carelessly against a nearby tree.

"Hadrian," he greeted, "where have you been?"

Without another glance at the terrified figure on the ground, he came forward, linked his arm through his mate’s and started to walk back along the path. "What a time I’ve had since this noon."

"Really?" asked Hadrian, "you’d better tell me all about it, then."

He stopped for an instant, glaring back at Philo, still nursing his nose and dented pride, "I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of you and Sergio in this city, after tomorrow," then added with just the right touch of menace. "Will we?"

Philo shook his head, "No sir," he said nasally, "we’ll be going on a long vacation..."

"Have a nice, safe, journey," said Hadrian, then moved off with his bond-mate.

Philo watched them go and shook his head in anger at himself. How could he have been so mistaken in someone. That Temos was a handful and more, and as he strolled away without a backward glance, Philo marvelled again at the way the young man could change in an instant from a deadly fighting machine, to a carefree boy, strolling arm in arm with his chosen companion.

He sat there and wondered how fast he and Sergio could leave the city.

Hadrian was content as he and Temos walked slowly back through the Park to Claudio’s house. His arm through that of his mate, feeling the warm and strength of it, marvelling anew at the quality Temos had of putting things into perspective.

He had been harassed by the arguing he’d had at the Senator’s home, trying to talk a politician into parting with money, was well-nigh impossible. He’d wanted to be with Temos, escorting him to the party, watching the way he enjoyed himself.

That, to Hadrian, was far more interesting than having to think up ways to save money the senator could well afford anyway.

Added to that, he’d been sick with worry at the thought of Temos alone with two men without scruples of any kind. He was all fired up with thoughts of retribution, only to find Temos had handled the scoundrels, without too much trouble, and was calmly linking his arm and walking away, without a glance at the terrified, bloody-nosed man on the ground.

His bond-mate was acting as though nothing of any importance had happened, and Hadrian realised that it wasn’t really important either.

Temos was safe and unharmed, and from the way he was now behaving, had actually enjoyed the scuffle. It must be quite a change, Hadrian thought ruefully, from the verbal battles the blond youth had to fight with his relatives.

By the time they'd reached the edge of the Park, Hadrian’s blood had cooled and he was just thankful that events had turned out as well as they had. He had no doubt that Philo and Sergio would be missing from their usual haunts after tonight, so dismissed them from his mind.

As they came in sight of Claudio's house, Temos stopped and freeing his arm for a moment, tried to tie back his hair.

Hadrian stopped him with a hand on his forearm, "Let it be, Temos. I like it like that."

Temos gave him a quizzical glance, "It’s not very tidy for a city," he said playfully. “People will think I’m a barbarian," and he laughed, showing his even white teeth.

"You are a barbarian," said Hadrian, with a straight face, then burst out. "To Hades with what the city wants - and it’s citizens."

Temos assumed a serious expression, but his eyes were laughing. "Had another argument about money, hmm?" he teased.

Hadrian had to smile, and linked arms again. "How did you guess?"

Temos shrugged, "Instinct," he grinned.

They moved on a few more paces, then Temos said suddenly. "It’s very different from the life we had back in the desert, money didn’t matter at all to us there."

He paused, and Hadrian asked quietly. "Are you lonely, Temos?" wondering if Temos missed Marcus

"Not when I’m with you," said Temos candidly. "Or Aunt Augusta," he smiled.

Hadrian smiled slightly. "No one can be lonely with Aunt Augusta," he said.

"I thought the city might be boring, with nothing to do," said Temos pensively.

"Is it?" asked Hadrian.

Temos flung back his head and laughed aloud. "Not if tonight is anything to go by."

He wagged a playful finger at Hadrian. "These civilised festivals are a lot more dangerous than our barbaric ones," he stated emphatically.

Hadrian knew when he was being teased and smacked his lover’s arm warningly. "I can always arrange for some barbaric ones to amuse you," he said swiftly.

Temos grinned, then halted and faced his bond-mate. "Hadrian, will you ever want to go back to the desert, and the army?" he asked.

Hadrian paused. That thought had been in his mind for a few weeks now, and he didn’t know what the answer was.

"I don’t know, Temos. I miss the desert, the stars, the scouts and life is much more exciting out there." He stopped thoughtfully, kicking at a piece of turf with a sandalled foot.

"On the other hand, I don’t miss the sand in my food, the flies, or the battles where my men get hurt." He looked up at his lover, his eyes almost black in the moonlight. "Do you want to go back, Temos?"

Temos nodded, then shook his head. "Like you, my love, I miss certain things. My friends, the scouting parties, the open skies and desert."

He reached for Hadrian’s hand and clasped it warmly as he whispered, " ...and the sunrise over our bonding clearing."

Then clearing his throat, he added, "I certainly don’t miss the flies and scorpions, or the bloodstained field of battle."

Hadrian felt the warmth of the grasp and his heart soared with elation and love. He gave himself a moment to recover before he said. "Perhaps I can arrange it so that we can go back to the desert, for a while. Spend some time there, and some time here. What do you think of that?"

Temos’ eyes shone. "Oh yes, that I like. When do we leave?" he asked impulsively.

"How about tomorrow?" joked Hadrian.

Temos was taken aback. "Isn't that too soon for your business..." Then caught the twinkle in the blue gaze and punched Hadrian’s arm. "You really mean it?" he asked.

Hadrian nodded. "Yes, I mean it. I’m getting bored sorting out legal tangles that shouldn’t have happened anyway. I’m a warrior not a lawyer." He paused and added softly, "Most of all, it keeps me away from you."

He lifted a hand to stroke the silky hair, and Temos leaned against his broad frame, his head resting on Hadrian's shoulder, contentment in every fibre of his being.

Hadrian nestled his cheek into the fragrant mane, "You sure you want to go back too?" he asked.

Temos nodded. "Wherever you go, I go, my Commander," he said simply.

Hadrian's fingers lifted the firm chin and kissed him tenderly, emotionally moved, as always, by his lover's devotion.

A couple of drunken youths stumbled past them on their way into the dark Park, and they drew apart.

As they resumed their stroll, Temos asked suddenly: "What will the Emperor say?" realising that it might not be as easy as Hadrian made out.

"Oh, he’ll agree. He’s always wanting new lands to conquer, new troops to train, and I’m very good at all that."

Temos snuggled under his companion's arm, "That’s not all that you’re very good at, my commanding lover," he whispered, and trailed his hand from Hadrian's chest to his navel, circling it suggestively, his touch leaving a trail of fire on Hadrian's skin.

His breathing suddenly harsh with sheer lust, Hadrian managed to catch the mischievous hand and bring it to his lips. "You're not so bad yourself, my beloved Barbarian."

They glanced at the house, lit up and noisy with partying people, then by mutual, unspoken consent, they turned their steps towards home, more than satisfied with each other's company, and the fun they could have, just by themselves.

Start date: 30th October, 1987 -

Finished: 20th October, 1999

(c) T.Roubles/Dusty Tyree


End file.
